


Zolushka

by pi_meson



Series: Yuri's L-Words [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Lilia's PoV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pi_meson/pseuds/pi_meson
Summary: Lilia Baranovskaya is a world famous dance coach and choreographer. Her ex-husband and occasional thorn in her side, ice skating coach Yakov Feltsman, asks her to take on one of his students, a young skater who he says needs to learn to be more versatile. She agrees and meets the boy, but quickly realises that her snap judgment of the skater is flawed. It's not versatility he needs, but something much deeper.As Yuri develops and strengthens as a skater, can he accidentally help Lilia to develop and strengthen too?





	1. Sweep me off my feet

**Author's Note:**

> I am fascinated by Lilia. Who is she? What's she like under the icy exterior? What is her past history with Yakov? Who does she yearn to be? What makes her happy? 
> 
> I will probably stick with fairly short chapters, updated about once a week. Hey, writing is slow sometimes!

Lilia Baranovskaya ignored her phone. It vibrated inside her bag on the floor below the hook that always held her coat, or remained empty. Not that she was aware of it, but had she known Yakov Feltsman was calling her she would have ignored it deliberately.  
"With the grace of a swan, Milena!" She frowned at one of her young dancers, a petite girl almost ready to join the corps de ballet, just waiting for a twisted ankle or broken toe to put one of the older dancers out for a few performances. Milena barely nodded but corrected her posture and began again. Lilia clapped and praised the sweeping curve of the dancer's arms, transformed for a few moments into the illusion of wings. "Good! Very smooth. Rest now. Eat for fuel. Tomorrow you rehearse with the rest of the flock. I hear Galina is nursing a calf strain and I want you ready to step in if necessary."  
Milena's heart soared like the regal bird she was supposed to be, then crashed with guilt at the idea she should celebrate her advancement at the expense of her colleague's misfortune. She smiled at her mistress and sat to unlace her pink-ribboned shoes.  
"Thank you, madame!" 

The other three dancers in the rehearsal studio stretched and warmed up and waited for instruction. Lilia did not disappoint.  
"Girls, we will work on Prokofiev's _Zolushka._ Today we are all poor serving wenches hoping to marry a handsome and _very rich_ prince." The girls giggled politely at Lilia's wink. "We will all dance so beautifully that our princes-in-waiting will sweep us off our feet. But for now I am afraid it is we who must do the sweeping. The best we poor servant girls can do is dance with our brooms. Anna go first please."  
One of the dancers picked up a broomstick from the selection of props in the corner and demonstrated the steps while Lilia hummed and clapped along to the piano and the other two mimed until it was their turn.

The dance lesson ended and Lilia thanked the girls for their hard work and reminded them of which elements of their craft they should practise before she saw them again. In turn the dancers thanked Lilia with bobbed curtseys and turned tired grins to the pianist. Lilia swapped her shoes for close fitting boots. She rarely demonstrated en pointe any more and her calves burned from the short sections she had modelled for the girls. The tight boots gave some relief. She thought, as she often did without acting on it at all, that she ought to ask if one of the older principal dancers or soloists might like to retire and take a position as instructor to the most talented teenagers. Then she could focus on choreography and give her tired bones a rest before the girls' furtive, hushed speculation about when Madame was actually going to break a hip came to pass.

So it was a couple of hours before Lilia tutted and scowled at her phone. Four missed calls and two texts from Yakov. That level of persistence meant he must actually want something, some favour or other rather than his usual monthly invitation to join him for dinner and yet another dissection of _Моя нежная девочка, what went wrong with us?_ after too much to drink. Lilia, in two minds whether to reply or delete, mentally prepared excuses then hit _call_.

 _"Lilia! A ha ha, my dear kit–"_  
"Yakov, I am a busy woman. What did you want?"  
_"Hah. Well. I want... I want you to meet one of my ice dancers."_  
"Meet? Why?"  
_"He's good - Lilia he could be as good as Victor or better. But he needs more than I can give him. I think you would be–"_  
"Stop. Stop right there, Yakov Feltsman. I am not taking on one of your young hopefuls. I have my own dancers to train and they are every bit as important as your competitive athletes, only far more versatile. I don't have time."  
_"Please, Lilia my sweet, versatility is exactly what he needs to learn. You've seen him perhaps? It's Yuri Plisetski."_

Lilia frowned into thin air, thinking. She had indeed seen young Yuri before, in the junior section of her dance school. He'd shown so much promise that she'd slightly regretted his introduction to ice dance before shrugging his choice away and focusing on the more dedicated ballet students.

"Plisetski you say? Well. I suppose I could take a look at the boy."  
_"You won't regret it at all! Will you come to the rink this afternoon?"_  
"Yes. Whatever. If I take him on there will be conditions."  
_"Anything, my Lilia! Anything I can offer is yours."_  
"We are _not_ getting back together and you must accept this as fact. I am not your kitten, your Lilia, your sweet or your anything and you will address me with respect."

Lilia dropped her phone back into her bag, wrapped her padded coat around the soft sweater and leggings she preferred to wear for coaching sessions, checked her hair was secure in a tight, chestnut bun, and headed out to meet Yakov.

Murmurs followed Lilia into the rink. She was flattered that she was remembered, prima ballerina in her glory days, travelling the world on the strength of her poise and athletic grace, swept off her feet by an older man and the expectations of a society that seemed archaic now. She spied the youngster first, face twisted in something between anger and frustration, held aloft by Mila Babicheva, his shrill voice carrying insults, and her mind was settled. The boy needed to learn far more than versatility, and she would probably have to have words with Yakov later for making her waste a journey. Yakov saw her and waved her over.

"Yuri, Mila, this is Lilia Baranovskaya."  
Lilia barely acknowledged Yakov's welcome. She did not look at the diminutive blond who glared at her in suspicion.  
"Which one is he? If I don't like what I see, I will go home."  
The blond boy scowled. _"Who's this hag?"_  
Lilia rose above the slight. She pulled Yuri towards her and examined him as if she was purchasing a racehorse. The boy protested and squirmed at first, but allowed her to test his strength and flexibility, cooperating with bad grace in a range of stretches and exercises at her direction. He did not crack until she declared him to be in abysmal physical shape.  
_"What the Hell?"_  
She silenced his protests with a glare that softened just a little when the boy closed his mouth and forced his scowl to smooth away. At least, she thought, he has some control over himself. She ignored the boy and spoke to Yakov over his head.  
"We will start at square one with ballet lessons."  
"Do whatever you want," Yakov replied, dismissing Yuri into her care with a shrug.

Lilia bristled at Yakov's lack of warmth towards his young skater, feeling more disposed to like the lad just to spite Yakov's coldness. She turned her attention back to Yuri, decision made already despite the misgivings rumbling at the back of her mind. "I will choreograph your free program."  
"Huh?"  
To Lilia, it looked as if all the fire went out of the boy, and she smiled. She stroked his face, a kind touch, and he looked up at her meekly. "But first, you must become next season's principal - no - _prima ballerina,_ if you are willing to sell your soul to win." 

Yuri looked dumbfounded. "P-prima ballerina?" His voice uncertain and quiet, his eyes upturned to meet her haughty downward gaze. Lilia nodded at him. From his expression, she felt that she would win him over with the right kind of encouragement and small kindnesses. There still remained the problem of logistics: time to coach the boy in technique, facilities for practice and rehearsal, the need to have him ready to practice when she was available without losing time and energy on buses and trains, the need to make sure he remained strong and healthy with a good diet. The solution popped into her head and she told him, "Go home and pack your things. You will be living with me from now on." 

And yet the boy faltered. It wasn't enough, she could hardly expect him to be comfortable on his own with her, a stranger with a stern, abrupt manner. He needed someone familiar to help him to trust her. Again a solution appeared with little instigation from her conscious thought. She glared at her ex-husband. "You too Yakov."  
Yakov's expression mirrored the boy's and it was all Lilia could do not to burst into laughter at their horror.

That evening, Lilia welcomed Yuri into her home. The boy demanded the wifi password then was silent. She saw him settled into a room and left him alone to unpack and get used to his new home. Yakov met her in the kitchen. He'd already found refreshments.  
"Make the most of that glass of wine, Yakov. There won't be any more. We must set a good example, you and I!"  
"A good example of what, Lilia?" Yakov rubbed his free hand over his bald head and smoothed down the fringe of grey that surrounded the shiny dome. Lilia observed in disgusted fascination.  
"A good example of people who cooperate with one another on equal footing without arguing every single point."  
Yakov sighed and set down his glass. "I entrust his training to you, Lilia. He's junior gold medallist last season but I can do no more with him."  
"Ah!" Lilia poured herself a glass of water and sipped, looking at Yakov over the top of the glass. "So it's not young _Yuri_ who needs to learn versatility. Is it?" She stared Yakov down until he looked away and laughed nervously.  
"Ah my kit– Lilia. Lilia. What happened to us?"

Lilia groaned, shook her head and left the room. From Yuri's room she heard music and his voice muttering complaints at some friend or other. Yakov's room still had his holdall packed and slung on the bed. Well. That was his problem, wasn't it? Perhaps he wouldn't be needed after all, Yuri seemed strong enough in character if not yet in bone and sinew and muscle. She knocked and waited for a moment then pushed the door open a crack, enough to look through without encroaching on his space.  
"If you are hungry there's a kitchen with food in it. You can eat whatever you like, as long as you like fish and vegetables. There's leftover borscht. If you tell me what you like to eat I'll see that you have it. You must fuel your training properly if you are to stay strong."  
Yuri looked up without taking his earphones off. He fixed green eyes on her and sat forward. He smiled a little hopeful smile.  
"Can you make katsudon?"


	2. Glass Slippers

"Get up Yuri!" Lilia banged on his door again with the heel of her palm. It was her third attempt to rouse him and her knuckles hurt. "You need to warm up and go for a run before practice. Get up!"  
She listened from outside as a creak and a groan suggested there was life in there. Yakov, lurching from his room to the bathroom, grunted in lieu of saying good morning.   
"Hnnghh. Go in. Take the covers. That'll get him out of bed."  
"I see your manners have not improved since I left," snapped Lilia. "I gave the boy his own space and intend to stay out of it."  
Yakov scowled and grunted again then vanished into the bathroom. Lilia remained at Yuri's door. She heard another creak and a word that might have been _fuck._ She smiled and tried a carrot instead of a stick. "If you want breakfast made for you, you need to be in the kitchen in three minutes."

Yuri took at least five minutes to slip into a chair at Lilia's kitchen table. There was fruit juice already poured and he drained his glass before refilling it and looking around hopefully.  
"Can I have coffee?"  
"No," Lilia shook her head. "Bad for you. You must eat food that fuels your body, not poisons that sap your strength. Fruit for vitamins, milk and eggs for protein for your developing muscles. Hm, I suppose you can skip your morning run and focus on suppleness today because you do not stretch enough, but tonight you must go to sleep earlier and set an alarm for the morning."  
Yuri groaned and sulked, but only for as long as it took Lilia to upend a pan and cover his plate and her own with scrambled eggs. Lilia hid her smile as Yuri ate voraciously. She sat opposite and ate with more reserve, ignoring the crashing from the hallway as Yakov failed to find the grace he once displayed as a younger man. He fell into the seat between Yuri and Lilia.  
"You made breakfast. Where is–"  
"Ah Yakov, you are too late." Lilia shook her head. "But you can make toast, can't you? Yuri, if you are finished, wash your plate then go to the studio and stretch. I will be there in twenty minutes."

Yuri left quietly, eyes scouting his path across the polished parquet floor. Lilia waited until she heard footsteps on the stair that led from her apartment to her ballet studio below. She caught Yakov's narrowed eyes and felt like she had done years ago, like she had to avert a storm.   
"Yakov! If we are to work the boy hard, his training will feel like punishment. He needs kindness between the studio and the ice and his new home."  
"I didn't say a thing," said Yakov, turning his attention to his breakfast.  
"I know you. I almost heard you think." Lilia picked up her plate and walked to the sink. "You called me because you know I can make the boy a better skater, so trust my methods."  
"Whatever you say." Yakov shrugged.   
Lilia looked at her watch and set her lips into a tight line. "Exactly. I will assess Yuri's proficiency this morning and choose his music this afternoon after I have seen the short programme _Victor_ choreographed for him."  
"Mmhmm." Yakov nodded. "As you like. Lilia, why am I here?"  
Lilia frowned at Yakov as she thought what to tell him. After a moment she sighed.  
"Because he's a fifteen year old boy. What do I know about being a fifteen year old boy? At least you _were_ one, once, a long time ago, even if you do not remember."

Lilia found Yuri stretching at the barre. She watched until he saw her and paused. Yuri looked at Lilia impassively. "Do you hate coach Yakov?"  
She raised her eyebrows at the impertinence of the question. "No. Why, would that matter?"  
Yuri returned to stretching but Lilia clapped her hands, then spoke when she realised that Yuri did not know the signals she used with her other boys and girls. "I want to see some basic techniques. Watch and copy." Lilia removed her shoes and demonstrated barefoot. Yuri copied with some accuracy but not grace, and Lilia frowned.  
"No, that won't do at all! You must glide, float, give the illusion that you have no substance, you are made of fluid movement instead of solid mass. A cherry blossom on the wind. Watch."  
Yuri watched and copied, watched and copied, watched and copied and threw a tantrum. Lilia waited, hands on her hips, expression as neutral as she could manage, until Yuri's fury burned itself out, leaving smouldering resentment behind. She took a deep breath and found her most haughty expression.

"You are correct, Yuri. I am _not_ your mother and I will not indulge such rude behaviour again. I am a professional, experienced coach and choreographer, and you will speak to me with respect." Lilia paused, scrutinising Yuri's face and seeing there the embarrassment he owed her for his petulant outburst. She kept her expression hard but spoke more softly. "When you are frustrated to the point of giving up on yourself, I will still show you again and watch you again and correct your posture again and again until it is _perfect._ I am your best hope of a gold medal, and I want this for you. Now, stop waving your arms around as if you were signalling with semaphore, go cool your temper, then come back and show me how you can move as if the laws of physics were suspended just for you."

By the end of the morning, Lilia dared lavish faint praise on Yuri. "Hm, you are getting better. You will rest for an hour. After that we will have lunch and go to the ice rink. I want to see your short programme, _Agape_ isn't it?" Yuri nodded, still sullen. "Well. I will choose something a little more passionate for your free skate." She glanced at Yuri's face and allowed a smile. "You really are quite beautiful when you remember how to move."  
Yuri reddened and pouted, but his smile broke through.

Lunch was chicken salad and Yuri almost threw his second tantrum of the day. Lilia caught his eye, glared, and he simmered to a grouch.  
"I usually eat more at lunchtime."  
"Mmhmm, Yakov told me you like to take long breaks to sneak out for junk food. You can have as much of this as you want if you're hungry," countered Lilia, "but you are skating this afternoon. Do you want to be so full you can't show me your best?"  
Yuri muttered something that Lilia chose not to hear, but he ate without further complaint.

At the ice rink, Lilia stood a short distance away from Yakov to watch Yuri. Yakov called the other skaters in his team to leave the ice so that Yuri could perform. Yuri plugged his phone into the sound system and cued his track. Yakov watched with a smile, turning to Lilia to praise the boy.  
"He's good, isn't he? Such natural talent that–"  
"No," Lilia still stared at Yuri, noting mentally his arm positions and posture. "He's adequate. Talent will only get him so far and you have allowed him to be lazy. He needs disciplined practice and firm guidance. He's... sloppy. Loose. Compensates for poor technique with brute force. Look at that trailing leg! I've seen more fluid leg movement in a dining chair."  
"I have _allowed...?"_ Yakov gestured wildly at Lilia, then sighed. "Lilia, I forbid him to leave and he walks out of practice. I tell him to turn up here at nine and he comes in at eleven. I told him to ignore Victor and he _flew to Japan to find him!_ The second you try to pin him down, he squirms out of your reach. That boy makes his own rules."  
Lilia faced Yakov at last, as the music faded and Yuri looked over at her. "Then we will have to make sure his rules align with ours."

Lilia called Yuri over.  
"You have much to work on. Your posture is terrible and you move like a marionette. Fortunately we have time to correct that. You want to win gold?"  
Yuri nodded, pink faced, looking down.  
"Answer me!"  
"Yes, madame."  
"Good. I want you to win gold too so you must do as I say. You will hate me sometimes and I accept this, but we will forgive one another when you stand on that podium. Yakov trusts me with your training. Do you also agree to trust me?" Teeth gritted, Yuri looked up and nodded. Lilia smiled a tight-lipped smile. "Good. Keep practising, remember what you did in the studio this morning and apply it." 

Lilia took Yakov's arm and led him aside. Yuri practised jumps and spins until he was no longer angry at Lilia's criticism. Yakov criticised Lilia quietly lest the skaters overhear a row.  
"There's no need to destroy him. He's gifted! Give him credit for what he does well."  
"You're wrong," Lilia shook her head and fixed Yakov with a determined look. "He must be destroyed. The overconfident, arrogant boy must be demolished and rebuilt into something stronger, someone who believes in himself not out of arrogance because he believes himself better than everyone else, but for being the best he can be, regardless of anyone else's performance."  
Yakov almost growled. "Why are you like this? Do you enjoy cruelty?"

Lilia pulled herself up to her full height and spun to face Yakov, no longer caring who might hear her. She poked a finger at his chest.  
"You brought me here. You want someone to try to put a layer of gloss on the mess you have made of the boy's training? Go ahead and find someone else. I will use my own methods. I will pull him apart until he sees the shape of his constituent pieces. Then I will help him put those jigsaw fragments back together the way they should fit, in the correct order this time, so that he can win." Her face, flushed red from her outburst, hardened. "I would appreciate your _support._ He must see that we agree on his training." 

Yakov had no answer other than a deeper scowl. Lilia sneered. "Think it over. You can bring Yuri back to my home later either for dinner and to listen to the music I have chosen for him, or to collect both your things and his and to say goodbye. It is your choice, and Yuri's."

With that, Lilia left the rink with as much regal poise as she could manage.


	3. Fairy Godmothers

Lilia bit her lip to prevent tears from welling up. Sitting in her car, she pinched her thigh to give herself something to focus on other than frustration and anger at Yakov.  
_How could that idiot be so blind!_ Pinch.  
_Yuri is not like Victor. He got lucky with Victor._ Pinch.  
_Get a grip, Lilia!_ Pinch.  
_Yuri is like me. Ambitious, but without direction. He needs me more than Yakov knows._

Lilia calmed, took three deep breaths with closed eyes, opened them again and started the engine. About to put the car in gear and pull out of her space, she jumped a little at a shadow across the passenger side and the car lurched to a stall. The passenger door opened and Yuri got in.  
"Can I have a ride back? Yakov's in a mood."

Lilia nodded and drove Yuri back to her apartment in silence. He disappeared into his room and closed the door. Lilia went into the kitchen with no real purpose in mind, examining the contents of the refrigerator as a distraction until Yuri reappeared in a close fitting vest and leggings.  
"I want to practise in the studio."  
Lilia closed the fridge door and looked at Yuri.  
"Of course. Go warm up and practice like I showed you earlier. I will come down in half an hour with the music for your free skate."  
Yuri nodded and padded downstairs. Lilia sighed when she heard the peaceful notes of _Agape_ wafting up. The boy needed something passionate, energetic, something to show off his dramatic character. Something the spectators would find familiar in style, something refreshing but not distracting from Yuri's performance. Something Russian, or perhaps something more international. Lilia poured herself a glass of water and wandered through to her living room to peruse her CD collection. It took her all of five minutes to choose one of her own favourite tracks, something her coach had chosen for her once.

Lilia was already having second thoughts by the time she reached the studio door. What if Yuri hated the track? What if he went back to Yakov and rejected her coaching? She pushed all such thoughts down deep to her core as she entered the studio. She looked around and smiled. Yuri was busy being tutored by two of her girls. Milena and Galina fussed over him. Milena demonstrated while Galina helped by guiding Yuri's arms, positioning the angle of his elbows and wrists, guiding his hips, until he formed an almost perfect copy of Milena.  
"Galina!" Lilia put on a serious expression. "You are supposed to be resting your calf strain. I want you back on the stage as soon as possible!"  
Galina nodded and took a couple of carefully graceful steps forward. "Yes madame! Milena asked me to watch her practice since she is to dance my part. I only did a warm up and a few gentle stretches. I promise I am resting."  
"Very well," Lilia smiled as she spoke. "You must take such good care of yourselves. Yuri, would you like to hear your music?"

Lilia slid the CD into the player in the corner, selected the track and pressed play. Yuri nodded as the Rachmaninoff played, _Rhapsody on a theme by Paganini_. Lilia watched his face and sighed. She turned the music off.  
"What don't you like about it?"  
Yuri looked around the room for inspiration before shrugging. "It's just..." He shrugged again. Milena prodded Galina and murmured something. Galina rummaged in her bag and produced another CD.  
"Madame, please listen to this? Milena has been preparing something for you, but..."  
Lilia nodded and Galina swapped over the CDs. As soon as the first frantic piano notes sounded, Galina laughed and clapped and Milena danced quick, light steps and jumps. Yuri watched, completely captivated by the beauty of Milena's movements.

Milena gave up and sat down after just over a minute, having missed a cue and not wanting to disturb the feel or the flow of the music. Once the track ended, Yuri started it again and sat down to listen. Milena started her dance again, this time she made up some of her steps as she went along, trying to keep up with the changing tempo and shifts in time signature in the short piece. Lilia was quickly convinced.  
"Galina, what is this music?"  
"It's quite new, the piano concerto in B minor, allegro apassionato, composed by Taku Matsushiba. The pianist is a friend of a friend."  
"It's perfect!" Lilia tapped her knee with her fingers. "The length may be a little short but it's close to what we need already and it is a challenging piece. Ha! That will keep the spectators on their toes! And you, Yuri. You like this piece better?" Yuri shrugged and nodded. Lilia smiled. "Well, you do not have to love it yet. If Yakov returns this evening we will listen together and construct your programme. Galina, thank you. Milena, please concentrate on being the best swan you can be. Yuri, please work on your arm positions and step sequences for an hour then come upstairs and change for dinner."

Milena laughed when Lilia was out of earshot.  
"Well now Cinderella, looks like we're your fairy godmothers instead of your ugly sisters. Galina just saved you from dancing to music everyone already knows inside out. You don't want the audience singing and clapping along, do you?"  
"Works for JJ," snapped Yuri, but the women mimed _it's JJ Style!_ and laughed harder.  
"Let's have a competition," suggested Galina. "I bet that Yuri can be a more graceful swan than you, if he tries."  
After the giggles and play fight died down, Milena and Galina took over as Yuri's tutors, making him argue and laugh a little too in the spirit of his temporary inclusion as the object of their entertainment.

When Yuri ventured back to Lilia's apartment with a dull ache in his thighs just from climbing the staircase after a day of more intense physical activity than he was used to, he found Yakov sitting at the dining table at right angles to Lilia, listening intently through bulky headphones that Yuri thought must be as old as Yakov himself. Yuri listened at the half-open door, staying just out of sight.  
"Mmh... mmhmm." Yuri heard a _clunk_ and spied Yakov thumping the headphones onto polished teak while Lilia bit back a scold. Lilia spoke sharply but not with the rebuke Yuri expected to hear.  
"We can make a high difficulty programme for him. Something that will play to his potential. He will be very agile, and he's strong for someone so young. We should work on his jumps _and_ build up his step sequence. He can excel at both if he puts in enough hours to master the techniques properly rather than assuming he's good enough already because he's always won before."

Yuri's mouth dropped open and he covered it with his hand. Lilia had not yet praised him to his face, but to Yakov she was free with her assessment of Yuri's strengths and the promise of his future performance. Yakov's voice interrupted his surprise with shock.

"Yuri! Get in here. I can hear you listening."

Yuri entered the dining room and stood just inside the door. Lilia pointed to a chair beside her but opposite Yakov, and he sat.  
"I suppose you should be here for this discussion since it is you who will have to do all the hours of practice you can manage. Yakov says your jumps are good but your step sequences lack the skill to match them. You get good technical scores, not so good presentation scores. Is this how you see your performances too?"  
Yuri looked at Yakov's resting glare and nodded.  
"Yakov and I want to choreograph a programme that will increase both your technical score and your presentation score. We would like you to change your short programme a little too as your suppleness, strength and stamina improve, to make your total score as high as possible, but that is your choice."  
Yuri thought of all the hours of boring, repetitive gym work and stretching he would need, and forced his agreement out through gritted teeth.  
"I'll do it. Whatever it takes to beat everyone else."

Lilia dismissed Yuri with instructions to take a bath to ease sore muscles and to rest for the evening, to be ready for dinner at seven and bed at ten. As he walked slowly down the hallway to his room, he heard Lilia and Yakov launch into a bickering discussion of jumps and steps and scores. Later, obeying the letter of Lilia's law after an unrestricted dinner of smoked salmon blini followed by lamb shashlik, he lay in bed with his phone under the covers, scrolling through social media rumours and speculation about his new coach and choreographer until at half past ten, without warning, the wifi icon blanked out. He yelled once, banged his head against the pillow a couple of times, and determined that he would _definitely_ bring this up over breakfast.

Deciding to stay awake anyway just to prove a point, although Yuri was not quite sure what point he was proving, exactly, he chose some music to fend off his fatigue. But Yuri was fast asleep by the end of the first track.


	4. Pumpkin

Lilia was pleased by how quickly Yuri's new training schedule became a habit and by how well the boy settled after she allowed him to bring Potya the ragdoll cat to her apartment. Up early for a run to help build stamina, then a session in the studio doing sets of plyometric jumps and hops one day and weights the next, followed by a cool down and assisted stretching. Breakfast came next then schoolwork, which Yuri complained about every day, claiming that it was a waste of time because his career as a skater for the next ten to fifteen years, then coach and choreographer, or perhaps commentator, was settled. Lilia would ask Yuri if he wanted to be ignorant rather than tell the boy that the true purpose of making him study history and literature beside the sports science she considered essential was simply to make him sit still and calm his mind for two or three hours and rest after his early morning session. After lunch, Lilia would drive Yuri to the ice rink and guide his practice, with Yakov occasionally butting in.

Yuri was on the ice, warmed up and skating through his new programme, practising the jumps that would become triples and quads as doubles and triples to save his energy for the repeats that Lilia would demand. Lilia watched, tapping her chin in time with the music and sighing in annoyance.  
"That's no good! Even the king crab we ate yesterday had a better free leg than you!"  
Yuri heard the stinging criticism and grit his teeth. He skated over to Lilia, using the break to get his breath back.  
"Again! From the same place."  
Yuri considered growling and saluting, but settled for a sharp _yes, ma'am!_ He wiped his face on his sleeve, extended his rest by gliding over to start the music again and took his starting position. Lilia never took her eyes off her student once.

"Mmh." Yakov shuffled closer to Lilia.  
"Don't interrupt!"  
"It's good that he has your influence instead of Victor's now."  
Lilia nodded in time with Yuri's jumps. "He is rebuilding himself on stronger foundations."  
"Victor made it look too easy. Yuri thought he could copy Victor, follow in his footsteps." Yakov watched Yuri make incremental improvements to his posture. "But he couldn't see the hours Victor put in."  
"Ha, yes," Lilia said, smiling, nodding scant praise to Yuri for the improvement and gesturing _again!_ "It takes effort to look effortlessly graceful. Believe me, I know."  
Yakov laughed. "I remember! Always such a single-minded perfectionist, my little Lilia. Do you know what I thought when I first saw you dance?" Lilia did not answer so Yakov continued anyway. "I'd heard that the most graceful swan could break a man's arm with a single blow. You reminded me of that."  
"Your style of flattery has not improved, Yakov." Lilia scowled and turned away from Yuri at last. "I am not _your little_ anything and I never was. Don't you have other skaters to coach? Look," she pointed, "Georgi and Mila are doing lifts with poor technique. You better correct it before your women's singles star is injured."  
"Mmh," Yakov grunted. As he walked over to deal with Mila and Georgi, he muttered, "I was not flattering you at all."

Yuri only had ten minutes left before Lilia would order him off the ice. She called to him, shrill above the sounds of other skaters practising.  
"From the beginning."  
Yuri nodded and wiped his brow on his sleeve. He scratched his head, tugging at the hair elastic that held his shoulder length hair back from his face in a tight ponytail. He shook out the strands and started to scrape it back again, but Lilia spoke again, just loud enough for him to hear.  
"It's beautiful."

Yuri shrugged and shook out his hair again, letting it fall over one eye as usual. The music started and he danced and flowed with it. At the end, he barely registered that he had been the only person skating, everyone else had moved back to the barriers and watched. Yuri skated over to Lilia, flicking his hair from his eyes and waiting for her assessment.

"Yuri," her voice was stern but Yuri could see the approval in her eyes. "You are beautiful. Never be afraid to use that to your advantage for as long as you can."  
"Yes madame." Yuri met her steady gaze with determination. "I will use everything I have to win gold."  
Quietly, as Yuri walked away, Lilia murmured _"That's my boy!"_ through her smile. He was going to be sensational.

Yuri emerged from the changing room ten minutes later and walked across to Lilia. She frowned at him.  
"What?" He demanded. "Was that not good enough for you? Everyone else thought it was perfect."  
"Ugh you are so defensive!" Lilia stroked Yuri's hair back from his eyes. "Was it good enough for _you?_ It was _good_ but you know as well as I do that your performance still falls short of _perfection._ I believe that with plenty more rehearsal time it may become perfect in time for the final. Don't fool yourself into becoming satisfied with anyone else's standards. Always strive to become the best _you_ know you can be."

Yuri sulked a little and Lilia patted his shoulder as they turned to leave the rink. "You are walking unevenly. I think you need a good massage today. I will drive you home and call my masseuse. She will make your legs feel six inches longer."  
Yuri groaned but did not refuse.

Lilia supervised Yuri's massage, taking amusement from the range of pained expressions he made as the masseuse efficiently kneaded, pummelled and stretched Yuri's legs, testing his range of motion, and entertained him with a constant commentary on what was wrong with each of his muscles in turn in between recounting legends from Lilia's prima ballerina days. Once his hour was over, Yuri stretched and grimaced as he followed Lilia to her sitting room.  
"I think I'm bruised."  
"No, but it will feel that way for a day or two. Have a hot shower later and relax this evening. I will order food instead of going out. What would you like to eat?"

Yuri recognised that he was being rewarded and smiled as he asked for _katsudon_ despite feeling a little insulted, as if he was a kid being given ice cream for good behaviour. He thought for only a second about something the talkative masseuse had said about Yakov having been handsome and having swept Lilia off her feet. "Galina and Milena told me that you married Yakov because he was rich."  
"Yakov is a good man and I loved him," snapped Lilia. She saw Yuri's eyes widen at her tone and shook off her annoyance. "I married because I was expected to find a husband and make a family. That is what well brought up women were supposed to do. It was not a good idea for me. If I were Galina or Milena or Anna or any of my girls today, I would choose not to marry."  
"Oh." Yuri bit his lip, embarrassed by his thoughtless revelation of gossip. "I will never marry anyone. Victor and that pig make me want to vomit."  
Lilia laughed ay Yuri's face-pulling. "Perhaps you should spend more time practising your step sequences and jumps, and less time in idle chatter with my girls. Come here, sit." Lilia pointed at the stool in front of her and Yuri sat. Lilia combed her fingers through his hair. "Hmm, you need a style that will let your hair move but also keep it from getting in your eyes too much."

Lilia styled Yuri's hair one way then another, combing and smoothing it between attempts, taking photos to let Yuri see the result each time. Yuri closed his eyes, exhausted from his training and aching from his massage, and let his mind wander while Lilia combed and plaited and tied and untangled and started over. Lilia noticed his smile.  
"So, who are you thinking about when you smile like that?"  
"WHAAAT!" Yuri scowled and turned, only settling once Lilia laid a firm hand on his shoulder. "I already said I wasn't interested in ever getting married. Why would I be thinking about anyone? I was only thinking about next season when I'm the reigning gold medallist and Victor will dump that pig and come back to Russia."  
"Ah!" Lilia kept her smile to herself. "Victor. I see."  
"WHAAAAT? NO!" Yuri stood up and faced Lilia. Lilia laughed.  
"I'm teasing you, Yuri. Sit down and let me finish your hair." Yuri glared at Lilia but did as she asked. Lilia pulled the longest strands of Yuri's hair into two parallel plaits on one side, leaving the rest free. "There. You look very beautiful. I'm sure that Victor won't be able to take his eyes off you once you are in your costume and dancing on the ice."  
Yuri rolled his eyes and went along with the teasing. "At least Victor's better looking than Yakov."  
"Well," Lilia winked at Yuri. "He is _now_ but forty years ago he was quite a catch! Do you want to see some photographs to prove it?"

That evening, after a large meal that Yuri demolished in two minutes, Lilia relaxed in her sitting room with a cup of tea and a book. Nothing moved apart from an occasional flick of Potya's tail, the cat betraying Yuri by climbing into her lap. She looked up at the sound of thundering footsteps getting closer, and startled as the door flew open. On the point of yelling at Yakov to respect her privacy, her sharp rebuke was swept away by Yakov's news.

"The assignments have been announced!"

Lilia leapt up and followed Yakov down the hall to Yuri's room. Yakov burst in without knocking. The door to Yuri's shower room flew open and Yuri stood dripping water onto the floor. Yakov's face reddened and he looked away quickly. Lilia had to cover her mouth to stifle her laugh at Yakov's discomfort with the boy's nudity. Yuri glared up at Yakov.

"Where did the piggy get assigned?"


	5. Prince

Yuri's first competition, his debut as a senior, was to be the second Grand Prix event: Skate Canada. He'd been warned not to slip into arrogance because he'd be up against stiff competition from JJ Leroy and Emil Nekola. Yakov had dismissed the other competitors with a shrug and a huff. Yuri and Lilia watched Skate America, the first competition, in the small hours as it streamed live, lounging on Lilia's sofa with Potya purring between them. They spoke only to comment on the performances of the skaters and compare their choreography with his own, work out which of his rivals' programmes had potentially the highest technical difficulty, who was weaker on interpretation, who might be confident with a sympathetic audience of home-grown fans but lose that advantage on someone else's turf. 

When it was over, Yuri stood, stretched and yawned. Potya woke, chirruped and oozed off the sofa to rub agains his legs. Lilia closed her laptop and smiled.  
"Rest for the day, Yuratchka. Sleep."  
"I can make it to afternoon practice. I want to work on _Agape. _I had some ideas for increasing the difficulty and I want–"__  
"No! No." Lilia patted Yuri's arm. "Not tomorrow. We can discuss it, but you will not skate until I am satisfied that you are rested."  
"But–"  
"Yuri!" Lilia made her voice stern with effort. All she wanted was to sleep. "You would waste all your hard work by risking injury?"  
Yuri's jaw clenched around his terse response. _"Ugh, yes madame."_

Next day Lilia remained in bed until she couldn't stand the inactivity any longer. She rose exhausted at eleven, showered, padded through to the kitchen to make coffee, so sure she would be the only one stirring that she was content in robe and slippers with a towel on her hair. She tutted in irritation at Yakov, sitting at the table studying his laptop screen. Yakov pretended not to notice, and smiled.  
"Good morning, angel. I made coffee. It's still fresh."  
"Thank you." Lilia walked over to the coffee pot on the stove and poured a cup. She sat at right angles to Yakov and sipped. "Mmm. Have you watched it?"  
"Just the highlights. Tough competition this year. The American boy got lucky but that Kazakh kid is strong." Yakov smoothed a hand over his bald head. He got up to refill both their cups. "Do you think Yuri can win?"  
"Of course!" Lilia's frown was back. "I would not push him so hard if I thought he had no chance. You are right that the boy has talent. Now that he is also putting in hours in the studio and on the ice I think he could be the best in the world."  
"Hmhmmhmm!" Yakov chuckled. "Better than my Vitya?"  
"Why not. On a good day, at least." Lilia drained her second cup and got up to make more coffee. 

Yuri chose that moment to enter the kitchen, more because he was afraid of being caught eavesdropping again than out of any desire to join in his coaches' conversation. Yakov gave him a glare and Yuri smirked back before yawning at the inside of the fridge and emerging with a carton of fruit juice. Lilia patted the seat beside hers, opposite Yakov.  
"Sit, we have some things to discuss." Yuri slouched in the chair until Lilia told him to sit up straight because slouching would hurt his back and ruin his posture. Lilia pulled up the scoreboard from Skate America on Yakov's laptop. "This is what you have to beat, and these are not even the big scorers. You will be up against JJ Leroy from Canada with his home crowd to cheer him on–"  
"Pshht!" Yuri sneered and looked away.  
"Yuri!"  
"I can beat him. He's full of–"  
"YURI!" 

Yuri shook out his hair and got up to get more juice. Lilia looked pointedly across at Yakov.  
"Yuri," Yakov warned, "you are no longer the biggest, strongest kid on the ice. You are a little boy in a grownup competition and they will not take you seriously if you give attitude like that. Show respect! Most of these guys have worked far harder and for far longer than you."  
Yuri sauntered around the kitchen, looking at his juice carton as he spoke. "But I can still beat them. You think I can beat Victor and he was the best last year."  
"Yes," Lilia glared at her protégé. "He _was_ the best. _Last year._ Now he is not competing so someone else will be the best and it is not guaranteed to be you. You will have to perform your short programme and free skate better than you ever have in rehearsal _twice_ just to qualify for the final, and then you will have to do even better to win! Now sit down and let's discuss your choreography. We need to make small changes for big gains and schedule rehearsal time to practise whatever alterations we make."  
Yuri scowled and sat. Lilia gave a satisfied nod.  
"Now, tell me about the ideas you had for increasing the difficulty of _Agape_ and we will see what difference they might make to your potential score." 

The discussion was brief. Within twenty minutes Lilia and Yakov had agreed to Yuri's suggestion of making the jumps more difficult and increasing their value by raising one or both arms. Lilia divided up practise time and rest periods and declared that he could do it for the Rostelecom Cup and the final but it was too close to the competition to make significant changes for Skate Canada. Yakov suggested a compromise when Yuri looked like he was choking back explosives.  
"The boy can practise and we will wait and see. If he is drawn to skate after Leroy and Nekola we can decide based on their scores whether or not it is worth risking raising the difficulty."  
That pacified Yuri, and Lilia agreed with a sigh and a shake of her head. 

Practices went well. Yuri made mistakes but only lost his temper a couple of times and both Lilia and Yakov let him storm it out until he quietened, then calmly told him _again from the same place_ until all three were satisfied with his progress. Yuri most appreciated the times Yakov was busy with Mila or Georgi and he had Lilia's full attention, and he saved his most ambitious efforts for these sessions without consciously acknowledging his need for Lilia's approval. Lilia also took pleasure from watching Yuri develop his skills without Yakov's interruptions, and when she played Yuri's music and watched his rehearsals of the full programme, she could almost imagine the ovation he'd deserve from the home crowd - he would surely stand tallest on the podium at the Rostelecom Cup in Moscow. 

Skate Canada was a different matter. Lilia and Yakov discussed the upcoming competition without Yuri's fragile ego, out to dinner one evening in the kind of restaurant where they were guaranteed privacy inside but, had they been younger or more relevant to current fashion, outside there would have been photographs snapped and sold to magazines with stories full of speculation about their relationship like there had been two decades earlier. Tonight they had no such intrusion on their lives. 

"I am relieved that Victor will not be in Canada. Yuri is better off without that kind of distraction," said Yakov over dessert. "But I wish he'd been assigned easier competition than a Canadian with a home crowd."  
"Mm," Lilia nodded agreement. "But he is strong, and he wants so badly to win every single competition. I have never met anyone with such drive." She laughed. "It's not enough for him to win, he wants to destroy his opponents utterly and leave them reconsidering their careers in his wake. Even your precious Victor would be a good winner and spare his enemies. Have you ever known a skater like that?"  
"No," admitted Yakov with a smile and a wink, "but I used to know a prima ballerina who–"  
"Enough!" Lilia scolded but laughed again. "I am not that overconfident, determined young woman any more."  
"Oh? I'm not so sure about that. Lilia," Yakov looked down at his empty plate. "Are you doing this for me, for Yuri or for yourself?"  
Lilia shrugged. "Does it matter?"  
Yakov looked up and Lilia smiled. 

The next morning, at an hour Yuri only knew of in theory, Yuri and Lilia accepted Yakov's goodbyes and good-lucks and slipped through security to find their flight to Canada. 


	6. Ugly Stepskaters

Lilia had booked flights that allowed Yuri four days to recover from the long journey and slip into a sleep schedule that would have him awake and alert for his competition. She had wanted to give him longer to adjust, a day for every hour of time difference, but that would have meant Yuri and herself being in Canada for over a week with only the foreign skaters and their supporters for company and a shared rink for practice. That, she agreed with Yakov, was not a good environment for Yuri.

Yuri was accustomed to travelling and tried to affect a world-weary attitude, but he still smiled and laughed when Lilia pointed out at check-in that he had a window seat in business class. The journey was tedious but uneventful. Yuri and Lilia made it to their hotel rooms, opposite one another, in time to unpack, shower, change, collect their passes from the Skate Canada official who came to welcome them, and investigate the hotel restaurant.

Yuri glared at the menu and shook his head. "I don't want to eat. I'm not hungry any more."  
Lilia sighed and peered at him over her menu. "You will eat something then take a nap. Travelling is tiring."  
"But I've been sitting down for _hours!"_ protested Yuri. "I'm not hungry and I'm not tired. I slept on the plane. I want to go out and find somewhere to eat in the city."  
"No," Lilia shook her head and flicked over to the second page of the menu. "Not today. Rest now. Use the hotel pool after your nap if you want. We can do some sightseeing tomorrow to warm up your legs before practice. We need to get you used to being awake at what feels like the early hours of the morning."

Yuri scowled deeper but he didn't bother to argue any further. Once made up, madame's mind was not easily changed. Besides, he reasoned, if Lilia was fatigued by the journey then all he had to do was wait for her to return to her room and fall asleep then he could do whatever he pleased for a couple of hours. But by the time he returned to his room and closed the door, he'd had an hour to think about what Lilia had said. If he was going to win, he had to be ready to compete at his best. His phone said it was late afternoon but his body told him it was gone midnight. Yuri set an alarm and lay down convinced he wouldn't sleep, but when the alarm tone roused him he felt as if he had merely blinked.

He felt stiff from the long journey and a swim in the hotel pool seemed like a good idea. Yuri changed, throwing a hotel robe over his shorts, and headed up to the top floor where the pool rippled beneath a glass roof. It was quiet: only one other person was there swimming a lazy backstroke up and down while generic calming music floated in the humid air. Yuri dropped his robe on a lounger and jumped in.

The other swimmer yelled and stood in the pool. Yuri stopped, treading water as his toes would only just reach the bottom.  
"Hey! You startled me."  
"Sorry," Yuri said, and swam off with an efficient freestyle. The other swimmer followed, stood up and spoke again, leaning against the wall of the shallow end.  
"You're a competitor, aren't you?" The tall brown-haired young man grinned. Yuri frowned at him, concerned in case he was a fan. The man stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Emil Nekola. You're Yuri Plisetski. Did you just arrive today? Is this your first competition as a senior? Ha! We have been assigned together to Skate Canada and the Rostelecom Cup so we will be seeing a lot of each other! JJ too– this is going to be so much fun!"  
Yuri stared, unsure of how to react to the gushing chatter and friendly gesture. He gave the briefest handshake, shrugged and mumbled. Emil was not deterred.  
"You want to come out with us later? JJ said he'd show me around the nightlife. Oh!" Emil's face fell. "You probably can't. You're only fifteen. Was that your mother with you earlier?"  
Yuri grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He hissed out, _"she's my choreographer!"_ and quickly ducked under the surface and pushed off. Yuri didn't raise his head above the water until he was more than halfway down the pool. At the far end he hauled himself out and slung his robe back on while he marched away without a backward glance.

It was not possible to avoid Emil and JJ completely, although Yuri tried his best. He spent the next two days ready to duck into doorways or dive around corners should either of his fellow competitors appear unexpectedly. However, he limited his exposure to Emil's relentless, friendly cheer and JJ's boasting as much as he could. Lilia sensed Yuri's discomfort with the older skaters and stepped in during practice when Yuri's temper looked about to blow.

"Yuri!" Lilia called over the ice to where the boy stood dwarfed by the Czech and cornered by the Canadian. "Leave your friends for later. I want to see your step sequence again."  
JJ moved to let Yuri pass and called something Lilia didn't catch. She watched his face twist into a grimace and she sighed. When he reached her side of the ice and demonstrated his step sequence, she smiled and called him closer.  
"Ignore them. You would do well not to react to teasing."  
"But that ass said–"  
"No! Do not repeat ugly words." Yuri huffed but calmed. Lilia stroked his hair and cupped his cheek in her hand to make him look at her. "You _know_ the best revenge is to stand higher than them on the podium. Now, stretch then rest until your _Agape_ tomorrow. You don't want Yakov to see you too tired to win."  
Yuri stood tall and nodded. "Yakov will watch me on the internet?"  
"No," Lilia smiled and held out Yuri's hoody for him. "He arrives in the morning."  
"Wait, what... he's coming to watch me here?" Yuri frowned in confusion. "I thought he was busy coaching Georgi and Mila!"  
"Oh!" Lilia laughed. "He wouldn't miss your debut for the world. Yuri, you are his shining star since Victor's betrayal. He has no doubt that you can be a fitting successor to Victor. Come, get changed and let's have dinner before the restaurant gets crowded."  
Lilia walked out ahead of Yuri to spare him from knowing she saw how close he was to tears.

Yuri was drawn third, after JJ but before Emil. Lilia overruled Yuri's decision to alter his jumps and only Yakov's intervention persuaded Yuri not to risk a solid programme by attempting all of his most difficult choreography. Lilia declared that he was not ready yet, but Yakov took Yuri aside quietly.  
"It's about the performance, Yuratchka. Never show all you have the first time. Please the judges and the crowd but leave them wondering what more you have for them. You think the Canadian will be giving everything he's got today? Hmm?" Yuri scowled and Yakov laughed. "Ha! No, tonight is about getting used to the atmosphere, sizing up the competition. Maybe tomorrow we will change your free skate for extra points but today you play safe and watch others stumble with nerves."

Just before Yuri entered the rink from the dim passage of the competitors-only area, he stopped and turned first to Lilia and then Yakov. Still reeling in disbelief from the brief hugs delivered by their youngest senior, Lilia and Yakov took their seats to watch with held breath and unblinking eyes.

Yuri's performance earned him a personal best and put him in fourth position after JJ, Emil and another young skater in his debut as a senior. In Lilia's room after the excitement of the short programme had abated, Yuri focused on the most important issue - he was not first - while Yakov fussed over scores and first half or second half jumps, and Lilia muttered about raised arms and small gains. Yuri tuned out their chatter and flicked through his social media accounts, chatting with Yuuko over Skype until he saw a link to JJ's performance on Instagram.

"What is it?" Lilia looked concerned and Yakov sat staring at him.  
"Whaaat?" Demanded Yuri. "Nothing."  
"Yuri!" Lilia was calm but firm. "You yelled something rude. If you are in a mood it will affect your performance. Do you need me to go so that you can talk with Yakov?"  
Yuri went pink and started to deny his anger but Lilia simply waited, watching, until he gave up.  
"I hate that ass JJ. On my way onto the ice tonight he said it was a shame I was there instead of a _real adversary_ like Victor."  
"I see," Lilia considered her immediate instinct to walk over and hug him but rejected it. "He was trying to upset you because he sees you as a threat. Is that why you stumbled over your _Agape?_ You were angry."  
"TOO DAMN RIGHT I'M A THREAT!"  
Yuri threw his phone on the bed beside him. Yakov shook his head.  
"Keep your head, Yura, and you will catch up. He's only a handful of points ahead of you."  
Yuri stood and picked up his phone, muttering, "I'm going to bed."

Lilia and Yakov waited for the door to close. Lilia sighed.  
"Fifteen is too young for this kind of pressure."  
"Mmh. At fifteen you were–"  
"At fifteen I had the world at the end of my pointe shoes and old men sending me flowers every curtain call, and I was only a principal!" Yakov shuddered and Lilia laughed. "Not you. I am not talking about you. You were the perfect gentleman waiting until I was eighteen to make me feel like a princess. But at fifteen I started to learn that you have to be tough to win. Is Yuri tough enough?"  
Yakov stared for a few seconds before replying, "Are you seriously in any doubt?"

Yuri prepared for his free skate the next day by sleeping late then refusing to leave his room. Yakov tried without success to get him to answer his door. Lilia checked with the restaurant that he had ordered something sensible from the room service menu for lunch and left him alone. He did not emerge to knock on Lilia's door until late afternoon. Lilia let him in with an approving nod.  
"You look well rested. Did you sleep?" Yuri nodded and took his place on the chair by the dressing table that doubled up as Lilia's desk. Lilia lifted her comb and pulled Yuri's hair into order, then put one side into a plait that would loosen as his damp hair dried. She secured it with elastic and added a ribbon that matched his fuchsia costume. "I think that is beautiful. Too much?" Yuri nodded and she removed it. "Very well."  
Lilia laid her hands gently on Yuri's shoulders and regarded him in the mirror. "How do you feel about your free skate?"  
Yuri frowned and met her reflected gaze. "I'm going to win tonight."

Yakov and Lilia shielded Yuri from any risk of encountering either Emil or JJ before his performance. They remained with Yuri, glaring at anyone who looked as if they might be about to speak to their boy, and walked possessively either side of him until he stepped onto the ice. Yakov muttered a quiet _"Davai!"_ Lilia held both of his hands and set her face firm.  
"You will go out there and win. Nothing can stop you."  
With a curt nod, Yuri glided to the centre of the ice.

Five minutes later in the kiss-and-cry, Yakov waited for what he knew would be another personal best score for Yuri, ready to heap praise on him. Lilia sat reserved, upright and attentive to the screen in front of them. She reached behind Yuri to give Yakov's arm a warning squeeze. This was her job. Yuri slouched between them, graceful beauty disguised by the poor posture that Lilia always scolded him for. The score flashed up and all three took a second to register it, add the scores and compare, before one grin and two sneers were caught on camera. Yuri's phone buzzed as the news reached his acquaintances. He was in first place as expected. The competition was now out of his control.

Yuri watched as the other debut senior skated a lacklustre routine, placing fourth. Emil Nekola crumbled under the pressure of Yuri's high score and flubbed two of his jumps. By the time JJ took to the ice, Yuri was sure of at least silver. He turned away from his vantage point beside Lilia.  
"I don't need to watch that asshole."  
"Yes!" Lilia took his arm and gave her most disapproving look. "You do. Watch and see where he is weak. You will face him again in Moscow and you need to see his flaws for yourself."

The crowd went wild when JJ appeared. Yuri hissed and scowled. Lilia tutted at the Canadian skater's showboating and called him _crude_ and _narcissistic_ and a few other impolite words that made Yuri suppress his sniggers with difficulty. Lilia leaned close to Yuri.  
"I want you to snatch gold from that boy every bit as much as you do."

But JJ and his home crowd formed an unbeatable combination. Yuri's score only lagged by a few points but the size of the gap made no difference. Gold was gold; silver was second best. Yakov and Lilia watched Yuri step up onto the podium with a face that showed his feelings about placing second. He leaned away when JJ tried to include him in a group photograph, glaring at the ice to his side and refusing to look at the Canadian. Yakov growled that he would speak to Yuri about gracious behaviour, but Lilia shook her head.  
"He is a bad loser but I think we can show him to be a gracious winner. He will be at the finals, I am sure of that. Now he knows he can beat the Czech and he came close to the Canadian he can refine his programme for more points."

Yuri joined Lilia and Yakov later for a late meal in the hotel restaurant. He ate slowly, Lilia allowed him the treat of scrolling through social media at the table.  
"Can you believe what that asshole JJ said to me on the podium?" demanded Yuri over a mouthful of poutine. "He said, _'Let's climb the podium together at the Rostelecom Cup,'_ and called me, _'Yuri-chan!'_ as if I'd care."  
Lilia frowned but Yakov provided an explanation in his reply to Yuri.  
"Ha! Anyone who thinks calling you a girl is insulting is a fool who has never met Russian girls. Work hard and wipe the ice with him in Moscow."

Yuri said nothing when he looked up at Yakov, but Lilia saw the promise in his eyes.


	7. Wishes

Lilia and Yakov escorted Yuri back to St Petersburg the day after his debut on the podium, the silver medal safely stowed in Lilia's handbag in case Yuri should change his mind and agree to wear it on his return to show off to his fans. Yuri complained that _Yuri's Angels_ were annoying and said they should leave him alone. Lilia laughed and shook her head.  
"Be kind to them! They are harmless and they make you more popular with the crowd and on your precious social media." Yuri growled and muttered something rude. "No! No ugly language. Look," Lilia waved a hand towards the barrier at the end of the arrivals hall. "There they are! Please, put your medal on and let them fuss over you for a few minutes. Yakov and I will rescue you."

Yakov watched Yuri roll his eyes then walk over to his fans, head down and hood up. "Ha! Were you also so irritated by your fans?"  
Lilia frowned and shuddered. "My fans were not like Yuri's. Yuri makes young teenage hearts beat faster and they are content with an autograph or a selfie. Look at them, blushing and giggling because their idol paused for a moment to let them adore him. My fans each wanted to own me, to keep the prima ballerina pure for themselves. Yakov, don't you remember? I used to complain about it all the time. The dinner invitations, the pressure to play along and humour patrons, men as old as we are now, in the hope they would donate more money to the Bolshoi. I felt dirty."  
Silenced by the force of Lilia's anger, undiminished by almost four decades, Yakov retrieved Yuri from the midst of the group of _Angels_ who all wanted to touch his medal. 

Lilia allowed Yuri one full day of rest then gave him a gentle return to his training schedule. Soon they were busy working on the small changes for higher scores that they had already discussed. Before leaving for Beijing, Yakov reassured Yuri that JJ would be less self-confident when they met again in Moscow and insisted that Yuri should watch Georgi's performance at the Cup of China to see how the older, more experienced skater coped with pressure. Yuri glowered at that suggestion and hissed _"Of course I'm going to watch!"_ while suppressing the contrary desire to do exactly the opposite simply because it was an instruction from Yakov.

Confident that Yuri had the attitude of a winner, Lilia watched fewer of his practice sessions on the ice, focusing more on teaching him to analyse his own performance be self-critical. She asked every day what he had worked on until Yuri started volunteering details of his progress without needing prompts. He did not usually say much, but she would nod in approval at a quiet _"My stamina is better already. I could do a quad-triple or more at the end of the Apassionato if I wanted,"_ or she might frown and give advice if he grumbled, _"I flubbed so many jumps that Mila asked if the ice was tripping me up."_ On the day of the Cup of China short programme he came back furious that _"Victor should come back and help coach me instead of that... that pig!"_ Lilia folded her arms and glared at his wide, green eyes.

"What can Victor do for you that you cannot do for yourself? Hmm?" Yuri looked away and scowled at the wall. Lilia kept her voice sharp. "So he broke a promise and you think he betrayed you. Big deal. It will happen again and again and again, Yuri. You know what will mend your broken heart?" Yuri's jaw set in a grimace. Lilia reached out and turned his head towards her with a finger on his chin. She let her piercing gaze hold his brimming defiance for a second. "Winning. Standing tall on the centre of that podium with Victor's plaything beneath you. Come," she allowed softness to sneak into her tone. "Watch today's performances again, with me, and we will take notes. Find his weaknesses and make them your strengths."

As Lilia set up her laptop in the kitchen and found the YouTube channel for the competition, the thought entered her head, and not for the first time, that she wished Yuri would find someone available to adore. _Maybe I will introduce him to more of the dancers in the corps de ballet, help him meet someone who can understand his punishing training regime._ She threw out the idea half-formed. Yuri did not need the complication of falling in love. At least his infatuation with Victor added to his competitive drive and did not make him want to skip practice.

When they paused playback to compare notes on Georgi's _Carabosse_ Lilia was even more relieved that Yuri's obsession was harmless.  
"It's weird," Yuri muttered. "He's way too into it. You know his ex is in the crowd? Mila told me she's competing in the women's event. She probably thinks Georgi's some kind of freak now."  
Lilia tutted. "Can you see how his emotional connection to his choreography helped? Look..." she resumed playback. "He's consumed by it. He is living it. That is something you can learn from Georgi. Your _Agape_ is still unpredictable. You need to radiate unconditional love, not just get through all the jumps without touching down."  
"Uuugh," complained Yuri, "you sound just like Victor sometimes."  
"Then perhaps Victor is not such a hopeless coach as Yakov says." Lilia smiled. "He feels betrayed by Victor too, but he has you now to help him get over it. Hmm, in Moscow you will be up against Katsuki. We should watch his short programme carefully."  
Yuri groaned and let his forehead hit the table. Ten minutes later Lilia patted Yuri's arm and turned a stern face to him.  
"You will have to be at your best for the Rostelecom Cup. Leroy and Katsuki are formidable competition! You do not have to win but you must place highly. Tomorrow I will accompany you to the ice rink and you will practise your jumps with raised arms to make your score higher."

Next day, Yuri practised until Lilia announced that the Cup of China free skate would be starting in half an hour. She instructed Yuri to go watch with Mila and the other skaters in the cafeteria, and take notes. She would do the same at home. Three hours later, Yuri arrived, crashing like a thunderstorm.  
"I HATE VICTOR NIKIFOROV AND I AM GOING TO BEAT HIS PET PIG!"  
A slam followed. Lilia shot out of her seat and stood in the hallway outside Yuri's door. 

"Yuri!"  
There was no reply other than a soft _thump_ from inside the room. Lilia clenched her fists. She spoke louder.  
"YURI! Come out. Now."  
Silence. Lilia knocked sharply on Yuri's door.  
"Yuri, that is not how we behave here. Come out."  
Silence, then another, harder _thump_ and the door shook.  
"If you behave like a spoiled child having a tantrum then I will treat you like a spoiled child! Is that what you want?"

Lilia waited. The door opened with a click but Yuri did not emerge. She pushed the door with one finger, peering into the dimness within. Yuri had closed the curtains. His phone and one of the pillows lay on the floor, and Yuri himself lay face down on the bed. Lilia took one hesitant step inside.  
"Yuri, what happened?"  
Yuri turned his head and faced the wall. "Nothing." Lilia took another uncertain step into the room, wondering whether to sit on the edge of Yuri's bed and stroke his ruffled hair or say something stern then leave him alone. But what to say? She let out a soft sigh and stepped closer, perching behind Yuri and smoothing his tangled blond locks with her fingers.  
"Is this because Victor said Katsuki would win the Rostelecom Cup after his free skate?" Yuri growled. Lilia patted his shoulder. "Yuri, he is a coach boasting about his protégé. Don't take it to heart."  
"Uuugh it's not that." Yuri's mind replayed uncomfortably the moment Victor had kissed Yuuri and he closed his eyes tightly. "I know I can beat the pig. I will win the Rostelecom Cup. I will beat him then Victor will see that I am the more talented skater. He should be here! Victor should be here, saying those things about–"

Yuri stopped suddenly. Lilia tried to disguise her relief at Yuri's determination and clasped her hands in her lap. Yuri sat up and rubbed his red eyes on his sleeves. Lilia offered him her clean handkerchief and leaned forward as if to stand, but Yuri put his arms around her narrow shoulders. Lilia hugged him and patted his back.  
"Ah poor Yuratchka. He really did break your heart." As Lilia comforted Yuri, she found her thoughts once more drifting to which of her nice young dancers might distract Yuri from moping over his painful crush, but none seemed right. She sighed again. If motivating the youngster meant occasionally having to comfort him crying over a boy he couldn't have then that was what she must do, at least until after the next competition. "Come and have some tea when you are ready and we can compare notes on the Japanese boy's free skate. We will make yours the highest scoring in history if we have to. You will show Victor that he has chosen the wrong _Yuri."_


	8. Dance

Lilia settled next to Yakov, elbowing his arm to persuade him into the confines of his own seat for the short flight. Yakov grumbled but made room as best he could. She turned in her seat to look for Yuri and Mila a couple of rows behind them and smiled at the sight of the two skaters with their earphones in, already bored with the journey. She nudged Yakov again.  
"What is it? I can't help the size of the seats!"  
"I know," she said with a placating tone. Then, a little hesitant, "Do you think Yuri will react badly when he sees Victor and Katsuki in Moscow?"  
"Huh?" Yakov's habitual frown deepened. "Why would he? He worships Victor. Went all the way to Japan to get him to choreograph his short programme. Stayed with Katsuki's family. Why would he be upset?"  
Lilia glared at Yakov for a few uncomfortable seconds then softened and sighed, resting her head and closing her eyes. "I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?"  
Yakov turned his head to regard Lilia's profile with surprise. "What do you mean by that?"  
Lilia turned to face Yakov again. "He's still a kid under all that attitude. He worships Victor, and Victor chose someone else."  
It was Yakov's turn to look away and sigh. "That's something he's used to so he'll handle it. He might not see much of Victor and that Katsuki boy. His grandfather is coming to collect him from the airport."

Yakov and Lilia passed the rest of the flight as quietly as Mila and Yuri. At the airport, Lilia caught sight of Yuri's fans and turned to encourage him to greet them, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Mila shrugged.  
"He told me to watch his stuff and left." She pointed at the side exit. "Is he staying with his family?" Yakov shrugged. Lilia looked surprised.  
"Has he not told _either_ of us about staying over with his family in Moscow?"  
"He never talks about his family," admitted Yakov. "I've met Nikolai, his grandfather. He's a good man. Good for Yuri. Calm. Hmm, I asked him to move to St Petersburg with Yuri."

Lilia and Yuri had rooms opposite one another again, at Lilia's request. She had his things brought up before settling in and getting dinner with Yakov. Waiting for her companion in the opulent restaurant, she saw a few faces and figures she recognised from the competitions so far. Over there she frowned at JJ Leroy's coaches and silently judged them for their son's behaviour. And there, the tall Czech boy looking around just to see who was here. 

"Lilia?"  
She startled when a gentleman maybe a decade older than herself stood at her side and called her name.  
"Lilia? It is you, Lilia Baranovskaya? Prima ballerina? Oh! It is!" He put his hand on her arm. Lilia pulled back but he was undeterred. "I saw you perform _Swan Lake_ at the Bolshoi four times! I wondered if you would join me for–"  
"Please," she cut him off with a sharp voice and accompanying glare that would freeze magma, "I am here on business and I ask that you respect my privacy."  
"Excuse me." The growl belonged to Yakov, who lumbered into the seat at right angles to Lilia, making a formidable obstacle for the intruder. The man scowled and walked away.  
Lilia shook her head and shivered. "At least Yuri's fans are well behaved." Yakov huffed out a short laugh.  
"At least you still have devoted fans." 

Yuri turned up back at the hotel a few hours after his disappearance. Lilia noticed his return with some relief: he seemed to be in a calm mood. She waited, quiet, listening. Ten minutes later she answered a light tap on her door and let Yuri in. Lilia put on her best smile. "How is your grandfather?"  
Yuri's smile was warm. "He's fine. He made pirozhki and he's coming tomorrow to see my short programme. If grandpa's there I have someone to think about when I'm skating."  
"Have you seen Victor yet?" Lilia kept her face carefully neutral.  
"Mmhmm, downstairs. He grabbed me during an interview to talk about how he choreographed _Agape._ I told him I was going to win."  
Lilia huffed and shook her head. "That boy has an ego like a hot air balloon. Was it nice to see him again? What about Katsuki?"  
"Yeah I saw the pig too." Yuri frowned. "It was weird. He acted friendly."  
"Well perhaps wants to be your friend." Lilia smiled at Yuri's aghast expression. "It is good that he respects you as a competitor. So many young performers struggle. Who else have you seen?"  
Yuri listed the skaters he had encountered on his way through the hotel to his room. Thankfully, sighed Lilia, _that Canadian ass_ was not mentioned and Yuri agreed to rest in his room for the remainder of the evening.

Next afternoon, Lilia helped Yuri prepare by supervising his stretches, blow drying his hair, suggesting pale lipstick to make him look _more angelic_ and checking his costume. Yuri allowed all of this, sitting quiet while Lilia fussed over him. Yakov knocked on the door when it was time to go. In the car, Yuri sat silent between his coaches. At the competitors' entrance Lilia did all the talking. Yakov and Lilia walked Yuri down dim passageways, flanking him protectively, and stood guard while he stretched and warmed up. Yuri's phone buzzed and he snatched it up before Lilia could confiscate it.

Lilia saw Yuri's face fall. "What's wrong, Yuri?"  
Yuri threw his phone back into his holdall. "Grandpa's not coming." He stood still, blinking rapidly and biting his lip. Lilia took a deep breath and spoke with deliberate sharpness she thought she might feel guilty about later.  
"Pull yourself together, Yuri! Find something else to focus on for your _Agape._ You will go out there and give the best performance the judges have ever seen."  
Yuri snapped to attention and shook out his hair. He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and nodded. 

Lilia and Yakov walked Yuri right up to the ice. Katsuki was partway through his _Eros_ and Victor watched him closely, expression revealing his feelings as the performance progressed. Lilia tried to shield Yuri from the sight of Victor's clear adoration of the Japanese skater and she felt a pang as Yuri's shock at the beauty of Katsuki's programme registered. Yuri shrugged off his hoodie and Lilia watched him walk, face set, towards the space where Victor waited anxiously for Katsuki to exit the ice.  
"Out of my way, pig."  
Lilia would have called him to order for that public insult, but Victor and Katsuki seemed the opposite of upset or insulted. She watched them confer and turn delighted faces towards Yuri, who now waited on the ice. Yakov was trying to reassure Yuri in his own gruff way. She joined in, reminding Yuri of all the work he had done to get this far, how prepared he was, but the boy seemed unfocused. Lilia wondered if he was even listening. A rumble from the crowd startled Yuri and he looked up, cries of _Yuri, davai!_ rousing him. Anger flared in his face and Yuri shot away to the centre of the ice. Lilia turned to Yakov.  
"What happened?"  
Yakov shrugged. "Something between Victor and that boy of his."  
Lilia sighed. There was nothing she could do for Yuri now.

Yakov stood by Lilia at the barrier to watch. Lilia almost yelled in frustration as Yuri fell on his triple axel, a jump she knew he could do easily. She breathed out slowly when Yuri recovered, executing his next jump, a difficult combination, with confidence. Yuri, thought Lilia, was a work of art. He was as beautiful as any of the principal dancers, soloists and prima ballerinas she had coached, and he had a fragility about him that _Agape_ exploited when he allowed it. But tonight, although the crowd was oblivious, Lilia could see where Yuri's anger spoiled his show. 

Yuri skated over after acknowledging the crowd's cheers and barged past JJ Leroy, face displaying his fury. Yakov started on Yuri straight away, berating him quietly for allowing himself to be intimidated by the older competitors. Lilia, on Yuri's other side, scolded him for letting anger make his performance sloppy. Yuri growled defensive responses then refused to speak or even look at Lilia or Yakov as they sat in the kiss-and-cry, Yuri sprawling and slouching, Yakov staring ahead and still grumbling about Yuri's immaturity, Lilia perched facing away from them both, dreading the score. 

It could have been worse, she reflected after watching JJ Leroy score a personal best with a fake smile that never left his face even once. Lilia walked beside Yuri, Yakov a little ahead. Yuri half-listened to Lilia chatter on about the difference in the scores between first, second and third and about how Yuri could easily make up the gap with a flawless free skate the next day, and how although he did not need to win he could not afford to relax, but his attention was caught by Victor and Yuuri discussing something up ahead. It wasn't an argument, Yuri could see that, but Victor's head was in his hand. Something was wrong. All three stopped as Victor approached Yakov. 

As Victor's request and Yakov's stunned agreement reached Yuri's ears, he looked up to see Yuuri staring back at him with surprise. Yuri leaned closer to Lilia and muttered, _"I'm going to grandpa's tonight, I can't hang out with katsudon."_  
Lilia nodded and muttered back, _"Good idea. Don't eat too many pirozhki."_


	9. Midnight

Lilia watched Yuri with quiet pride at public practice. She knew her presence was not required as motivation, but she repelled JJ Leroy with a single glare when he smirked too closely in Yuri's direction. The boy looked relaxed. He had placed well the day before in his short programme and would qualify for the final as long as there were no disasters waiting on the ice later. She smiled when Yuri waved at a group of his fans and bowed when they cheered. The boy was learning to be gracious and the look on the Canadian irritant's face was precious.

In turn, Yuri covertly watched Yuuri. He frowned at his temporary rink-mate's flubbed jumps and off-tempo steps, noticing with dismay Yuuri's tight lips and fixed expression. Yuuri was nervous without Victor. Yuri shook himself and skated over to Lilia. He raised his chin and his eyebrows.  
"Enough?"  
"Yes." Lilia nodded once. "Come, we need to discuss your options for tonight's jump composition."  
Lilia waited for Yuri to change, sign a few photographs and stand still for a few selfies, then they walked the short distance back to the hotel. Yuri _hmm_ -ed and Lilia turned to look at his profile, hood up and head down as usual.  
"The piggy is nervous without Victor watching over him. I think he will be easily beaten tonight. That's one less competitor to worry about."  
Lilia snorted and shook her head. "Yuri, never underestimate a fellow competitor. You have not earned the right to gloat about winning until you stand on that podium with gold around your neck. Now. About your jumps. What do you think you can cope with tonight?"  
Yuri lapsed into silent thought until they were safely back in Lilia's room, out of the earshot of fans with good hearing.

"What have you decided?" asked Lilia, pouring water for them both. Yuri frowned as he drained his glass and raided the minibar for fruit juice.  
"I can do two then six. I've done three then five in practice before and it was fine." He didn't look at Lilia's reaction. Lilia tapped her chin, silent for a few seconds.  
"Are you sure? It will be difficult. You will tire in the second half."  
"You know I always pick up after the halfway point. This way I will know if I can push it further in the final. I've not skated up to my limit yet. Ever."  
Lilia looked over. Yuri was staring at her defiantly, drink ignored and fist clenched. She raised one fine eyebrow at him.  
"Oh come on! You know it's true. I am capable of so much more than you've let me so far!"  
Lilia inclined her head slightly and Yuri knew that she would say yes.  
"It is a dangerous strategy. What if you are asking too much of yourself? You can't afford any mistakes. What if you mess it up and lose points?"  
"I won't." Yuri finished his juice. "I want to wipe the fake smile off JJ's stupid face tonight."

Snacks and rest, mental and physical, comprised Lilia's plan for the rest of Yuri's afternoon and he complied without complaint. When the time came for Lilia to rouse Yuri, he surprised her by being ready. She fixed his hair (a task she enjoyed more than she would ever admit to herself), checked his costume was perfect and smiled.  
"Ready to win?"  
"Huh!"

Yakov met them at the venue. He managed a smile. "Yuri! Your grandfather is here. He's waiting to see you at the back. You can use the fire exit."  
Yuri was out of sight before Yakov finished speaking. Lilia sighed.  
"So how is your nervous Japanese skater?"  
Yakov muttered, _"Vitya is a fool,"_ and walked away.

Yuri was not gone for long. He brandished a paper bag and a grin at Lilia.  
"Look! Grandpa made these. Have one! They're great!"  
Lilia took the bag and looked inside. She shuddered and gave Yuri a horrified glare. "Pirozkhi? Right before the toughest skate of your life? Far too heavy! Yuri, do you want to collapse and puke on the ice? No." She closed the bag and held it behind her. "You will not eat these until _after_ you skate your heart out. Will your grandfather stay to watch you?" Yuri nodded, clearly delighted. Lila gave a curt nod in return. "Good! I want to speak to him. Go get ready while I watch your enemies."  
Yuri sniggered at the agreed code for _I'll take notes on your competitors and let you know how hard you have to work later,_ and went to stretch and change with Yuuri under Yakov's supervision.

Lilia found a spot close to the barrier but out of the way in the section reserved for skaters and their coaches. The Czech boy she had seen in Canada was there, laughing as if he was not currently placed sixth after his gratifyingly disappointing short programme. Nekola. Lilia remembered his name in the second before it was announced. Emil Nekola. Yuri found him annoying and she could see why: with his upbeat attitude and ready smile he was a social reminder of what Yuri lacked. Lilia appraised his jumps. The boy was good, technically brilliant, but lacked Yuri's veneer of grace and beauty. He might score highly but... oh! Lilia suppressed a smile as Emil fell, compromising his final score.

Next was Michele Crispino. Lilia thought the Italian was certainly handsome enough to win hearts and skated with feeling, but she judged his routine harshly. It was not difficult enough to threaten Yuri's technical score. A movement to her side distracted her from the boy on the ice and a glance showed Mila with her arm around her Italian adversary. Sara, wasn't it? Mila talked about _my girl_ often. Sara.... Crispino! Lilia nodded to herself on recognising the name. So _Sara Crispino_ was the woman Mila liked but tried to keep quiet about!

Yakov arrived beside Lilia during Seung-gil Lee's free skate. Yuri was almost here. Lilia reluctantly turned to join Yakov and Yuri. As he passed through the divider between warm up area and competition, Yuri stopped to address Yakov.  
"I'm changing my programme to have two jumps in the first half and six in the second."  
Yakov stopped and stared at Yuri. Finally he found a voice. "Do you have a death wish?"  
Lilia scowled at Yakov but his attention was all on Yuri. From beneath his hood, Yuri spoke.  
"Lilia and I studied his free skate from Canada and he's probably refined it since then. I can't beat JJ unless I make my programme more difficult and I _have_ to beat that asshole."  
Yakov had no argument against that line of reasoning.

Lilia re-entered the rink with Yakov just in time to see Seung-gil walk out of the kiss and cry with a disappointing score and a scowl. Lilia laughed and pointed. "At least Yuri is not the rudest skater in the world!"  
Yakov laughed with her but added, "Don't be so sure. You have never seen him lose badly."

Yuri was next. Lilia reminded him quietly that he was strong, he was beautiful, he was capable of being the best. Yakov grunted agreement and Yuri took in none of it. He skated into position, glanced into the audience and saw his grandfather looking at him with a proud smile despite his back injury. He vowed to make this a show worth seeing. Nearby, he took in the sight of Lilia and Yakov watching him too. He sneered for a second then felt guilty pangs. Nobody was looking out for Yuuri. Yuri shook off the thought. He could not afford to think of anything other than his own performance.

Lilia gave a tiny smile at the sight of her graceful protégé, more calm and focused than she had ever seen. She watched entranced. Beside her, Yakov stood silent. Yuri danced perfectly and Lilia let her mind drift to mornings spent exercising at the barre then practicing chaîné turns and fouettés and sissonnes. She could see Yuri's ballet training in his perfect steps and excitement bubbled through her.

_That's right. Dance with beauty. Beauty is a crushing force of righteousness. Strength means nothing without beauty._

Yakov broke into Lilia's thoughts with his worry that Yuri would tire in the second half, but Lilia saw anger and determination in the boy's face and shook her head. He would do this, he would skate to his limit and later look for ways to push harder. It would have spoiled _Agape_ but Yuri's frantic mood was perfect for the _Apassionato._ Lilia wondered what Yuri was thinking about as he landed yet another clean jump.

_Aah good luck my... no. You do not need luck. You deserve this. You have worked so hard, fought so valiantly, and I am so proud of you!_

Lilia held her breath for Yuri's final jump and let out a soft cry when he landed perfectly to loud cheers. He finished, held his pose just long enough, and dropped to the ice. Lilia took an involuntary step forward, the tingling of fear that she had pushed him too far too quickly creeping up her core, but Yuri stood to acknowledge his fans, picked up a couple of the plushie kittens thrown onto the ice and skated to the exit.

She met him in the kiss and cry while Yakov went to check on Katsuki. Yuri sat perched forward waiting for his score. Lilia angled herself towards him but the intense expression on his face made her hold in her praise because he would not hear it. The score flashed up and the crowd went wild. A personal best! Lilia put a hand on Yuri's shoulder to bring him back into the present and smiled openly at him. Her Yuri would be in the final. He'd earned his place and he could win.

Yuri stood up and cheered, beaming at the crowd and waving at his grandfather. He had worked it out for himself: Katsuki and Leroy were no threat to him tonight. He called over to his Japanese rival, "How do you like my free skate, Katsudon?"  
Lilia realised with a jolt that she had been wrong about Yuri. His call wasn't a taunt, it was joyful. He didn't hate his rival for Victor's attention at all. He wanted to _impress!_ She wondered if her assumption that Yuri was crushing on Victor was also wrong. Lilia almost laughed at her own rush to believe Yuri's fight was born of a broken heart.

Katsuki was on the ice. Yuri stood a little apart from Yakov and Lilia joined them. The Japanese boy clearly missed Victor's support. Despite Yakov's oft-voiced opinion that Victor was a terrible coach and should give up, Katsuki skated badly without Victor's physical presence at the rink. Yakov and Yuri both reacted with surprise and disappointment to Katsuki's mistakes, and Yuri's clenched fists and gritted teeth stood as proof of his silent support.

"Hang in there!"  
Yuri's shout was cut short by Leroy standing behind them, getting ready for his own free skate. The Canadian whistled.  
"Ha! You're only cheering because your place in the final is secure. Stay and cheer for me too!"

Yuri turned, red face ready to spout fury. Lilia turned her back on JJ Leroy and took a step away. "Yuri!" She looked back over her shoulder at Yuri, blanking Leroy, and called sharply, "come with me."  
Yuri followed Lilia. She would at least get him out of earshot before he exploded into a supernova rant.

Lilia escorted Yuri, still fuming, to where the other competitors stood around watching the competition on a screen. Yakov appeared to be berating Yuuri in the kiss and cry and Yuri hissed in sympathy. Open mouthed, Yuri watched as his counterpart hugged Yakov. In his place, Yuri knew he would have sulked and stormed off. He thought back to the sobbing loser who'd hidden in a cubicle at Sochi, and smiled.

Back at the hotel, competition over, the elation of his free skate performance flattened by his position on the podium one step down from that grinning ass, Yuri and Lilia pored over scores from all the competitions. Yakov had already texted to say that Yuuri had just made it into the final and they confirmed it for themselves while they compiled lists of strengths and weaknesses of the other five finalists. Lilia half-joked that maybe they should find a way to get Victor out of the way in Barcelona because she thought Katsuki was a real challenge, but Yuri didn't take the bait.

"So the final line-up is..." he read upside down, counting off on his fingers, "me, Katsudon, JJ Leroy, Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont and Otabek Altin. I... Um, I want to go congratulate Katsudon. I tried earlier but he was acting all weird."  
"Yes, good idea. Here–" Lilia put a paper bag in front of Yuri. "You can have these back now."  
Yuri grabbed the bag and left Lilia with her calculations.

It was very late but Yuuri was nowhere in the public areas of the hotel and his room was silent when Yuri thumped on the door and listened for movement. Yakov said Yuuri had just gone out for a walk so Yuri jogged to catch up. Sure enough, the piggy hadn't got far. He was up ahead, staring into space.  
"HEY!" Yuri yelled as he caught up and pushed, not expecting Yuuri to fall. He tossed the bag of pirozhki into Yuuri's lap.  
"Have one of these. Grandpa made them. Go on! Eat! Anyway, what was that, on the ice?" Yuri glared. "I mean, you lost to JJ because you sucked. You had your worst skate _ever_ so you have an excuse." Yuri's face and voice softened and a pleading tone undermined his usual harsh edge. "But I skated my best ever. I was _awesome!_ Tonight almost broke me and I _still_ lost to JJ!" Yuri offered a hand to Yuuri and helped him up then took pirozhki from the bag Yuuri still clutched. He bit, closed his eyes and chewed. "Mmm these are so good, aren't they?"

Yuuri agreed and Yuri's blustering bravado came back. "You know I'm going to win gold in Barcelona. Why are you laughing? You're going to lose! Again! What I wanted to say is that when I get gold you better get silver. Raise your game, Katsudon, and keep _JJ-fucking-Leroy_ off the podium!"


	10. If the skate fits...

Lilia almost rolled her eyes. The Russian team had barely set foot in Barcelona and Yuri was complaining again. She set her face into a stern expression and faced Yuri, ready to scold him.  
"Yuri! Don't be so–"  
She stopped and sighed instead. The boy looked exhausted. It had been a bad flight, with a mix-up over seating and a delay at the baggage carousel that had Mila anxious that she would end up having to break in new skates, and Yuri fuming about the consequences of losing his favourite outfit. Eventually all their bags had appeared and they caught taxis to the official competition hotel. Lilia rode with Yakov just to get away from Yuri's bad mood.

"Yuri!" Yakov's voice was gruff. "Come and–"  
"Mila, watch my things." Yuri didn't bother looking up. "Ugh you check me in, Yakov! I'm tired."  
Yuri walked away without further comment. Lilia watched him. The boy only got a few steps away before he heard the excited cheers of a group of _Yuri's Angels_ waiting in the foyer. Liila could feel Yuri's irritation. She turned and glared just in time.  
"Yuri Plisetsky! Do not use not unattractive words."  
Yuri bit back his temper. Lilia turned back to join Yakov to check-in, satisfied that Yuri would keep his fans happy with selfies. She barely registered Yuri's annoyance at encountering his Canadian rival. 

Yuri was in a better mood after eating. He bitched about JJ Leroy all through dinner, and asked about the weird guy who had stared him out then left without speaking to him. Yakov supplied a name from Yuri's description.  
"Huh. Otabek Altin. Kazakhstan. One to watch out for. Trained in Russia as a junior then moved to Canada."  
Lilia nodded. "Yes, Yuri, this is the final. The top six skaters in the world are here. Do not underestimate any of them."  
Yuri glared up, disturbed from scrolling through his social media accounts. "Are you worried that I might underestimate this creepy old perv?"  
He held out his phone so that Lilia could see the photo on display. Victor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti were fooling around in the hotel pool. Lilia tutted.  
"Victor should be looking after his skater, not getting intimate with a rival. Giacometti is highly experienced. He has several appearances in the Grand Prix in his history and he likes to put on the kind of show that pleases a certain part of the audience. Do not make the mistake of thinking your youth will give you an advantage."

Public practice next morning was the first time the finalists would be able to size each other up on the ice. Lilia suggested a run-through of _The Angel of the Fire Festival_ as well as practising the jumps and step sequence for _Agape_ in an effort to promote their exhibition routine and practise some of the balletic moves they had in common without raising anyone's suspicion about the difficult changes he had been practising already in private, but Yuri huffed and sighed until Lilia gave up and left Yakov to supervise. She noted with a satisfied smile that Victor and Katsuki acknowledged Yuri with friendly respect as a rival, and tutted at JJ Leroy's confident assertion that he had done enough after only half his allotted time on the ice. As she left the rink, Lilia heard Yakov above all the other voices.  
"Yuri! One more time."

Yuri returned after practice and sat around the hotel with Lilia for all of fifteen minutes before announcing that he was bored and would go for a walk. Lilia nodded and instructed him not to go far because he should rest, reserve his strength for the competition. Yuri agreed and ambled out of the lounge. Lilia returned her attention to her phone, where she was scrutinising Yuri's rivals' short programmes from their previous competitions. 

Katsuki's and Leroy's she knew step by step and had their base scores and best scores memorised. Yuri's programme could beat them, of that she was sure unless they threw in some surprises. Chulanont was not a skater she was familiar with and she watched his routine with perplexed interest, wondering if coach Celestino let his skaters simply skate for fun. Giacometti's routine she watched with a slight feeling of horror. He was a showman, and a good one, but his obvious appeal to mature sexual desire did not move her. Last of all, Lilia brought up video clips of Otabek Altin. She watched with a professional detachment, calculating and calm. He was good. Not so good that a better foundation of ballet couldn't improve his interpretation, but good enough that Yuri would have to work his hardest through this competition.

Lilia laughed at herself. Of course Yuri would have to be at his absolute best. This was the Grand Prix Final. He was competing against he best in the world to _become_ the best in the world. At fifteen years old.  
Yakov sank into a chair beside her, disturbing her train of thought. "Something funny?"  
"No," Lilia still smiled. "I was studying the enemy. Yuri will have to be brilliant if he wants gold."  
"Well," Yakov sighed. "Let's hope the enemy doesn't persuade him to settle for any less. Have you seen what our brilliant pain-in-the-ass boy is up to?

Lilia frowned and opened her social media apps. Her frown deepened as she saw Yuri on the back of a motorcycle, Yuri clinging to Otabek Altin, _The Russian Fairy_ being willingly abducted by _The Hero of Kazakhstan_ and looking delighted by the whole experience. With a later timestamp, Yuri leaning on a mosaic parapet and smiling at the sunset. Altin looking away from the camera in one snap, and in another staring intently as if he had something he desperately wanted to convey. And one comment in a photo posted by Yuri to his private account, tagging a selfie of the blond boy and the dark-haired young man at Parc Guell: _#friends_

Lilia put her phone down and spoke through lips drawn into a taut line.  
"At least he had the sense to make Yuri wear a helmet."

Yakov went to the bar and returned with a chilled bottle of vintage Cava, dripping condensation onto the parquet floor, and two glasses. He gestured at Lilia, who nodded, and they retired to Lilia's room. Yakov poured two glasses and handed one to Lilia. He sighed as he settled into one of the upholstered chairs beside the little round table in the far corner of Lilia's room.  
"Might do the boy good to interact with his peers more," he said. "Heaven knows he needs to learn social skills."Lilia agreed but expressed concern. "He knows nothing of this Altin boy! And he goes off with him without telling anyone. It's irresponsible. I will speak with him later."  
"Hmm! Maybe leave the scolding until after his competition, eh Lilia? Do you want to see another furious _Agape?"_ Yakov chuckled. "Ah-hah, we know where he is and at least Altin hasn't antagonised him. I remember the Kazakh kid as a quiet, serious boy. If Yura needs us, he'll call."

Lilia sipped her wine and fixed Yakov with a glare. "You _know_ Otabek Altin? How?"  
"He came to one of my ballet summer schools, about five years ago. You were in Paris, remember? The boy was hopeless. Couldn't hold a candle to the Russian juniors. Terrible flexibility. Overpowered his jumps. Yuri might have been there too. I think it was just after he moved from Moscow. Back when he used to obey his coach, before he picked up attitude from the older skaters."  
Yakov refilled his glass but Lilia declined. She tapped the rim with her fingernail.  
"So Altin moves to Russia to train at thirteen then...?"  
Yakov shrugged. "Canada. The USA. Wherever. Why the sudden interest in a foreign rival?"  
Lilia sighed and shook her head. "Yuri moves away from his family at ten years old and barely sees them for five years, barely knows how to be civil never mind how to make friends. Altin does the same at thirteen. Is it any wonder they found one another?"  
"I do what I can for my young team, Lilia." Yakov smiled sadly. "But we are not their family."  
Lilia shook her head and held out her glass for Yakov to pour more Cava into it.  
"Yakov, we have to be that, and more."

Lilia and Yakov discussed Yuri's chances against the other five skaters and agreed that he needed to raise the difficulty of his programme to have a chance of getting on the podium.  
"At least if he tries and misses the medals, he can write it off as first-time finalist nerves, hmm?" suggested Yakov. Lilia shook her head.  
"No, he must raise the difficulty, skate his heart out and win. Let no other thought into your head, Yakov, in case you accidentally convey your lack of faith in Yuri to him before his blades touch the ice." Yakov stared and blinked. Lilia lifted her phone and waved it at Yakov. "Do you seriously doubt he can beat all of them, at his best?"

Yakov huffed and heaved himself out of the chair. He said goodnight with a smile and left Lilia to her thoughts. She tracked Yuri's evening on social media and smiled. It was nice that the boy had found a friend to go sightseeing and shopping with, even if she would have to tell him to be careful when he finally decided to check in with her before bed.

It was earlier than Lilia expected when Yuri's rapid, light tap came to her door. She opened it and, to her surprise, he came inside.  
"Did you have a nice day out with the enemy?" Lilia asked, smiling. Yuri grinned.  
"We went on his bike to some fancy park, which was SO COOL! Then I said I wanted to go shopping so he helped me pick out an outfit, then we went to a cafe but, ugh, _everyone_ showed up and ruined it, then _Asshole-on-Ice_ ruined it even more so I came back."  
"I saw your selfies. Was it a date?"  
"Hu-uh? No way!" Yuri looked horrified, pink colouring his cheeks, until Lilia laughed.  
"Relax, Yura. I'm glad you have had a nice day. But–"  
"Ugh, are you going to tell me not to make friends with Beka because he's my rival?"  
"No! Of course not, Yura. Just... be careful. Okay? Don't give anything away about your programme changes. You didn't, did you?"  
"NO!" yelled Yuri, scowling. "We spent the ENTIRE time bitching about how much we hate ballet!"  
Lilia laughed. "That's acceptable. Goodnight, Yura. Sleep well."

Yuri slept in, or so Lilia assumed from the lack of response to her call, and Lilia allowed it. Competition day was a good time for mental preparation as well as physical. When she heard movement, Lilia ordered Yuri a light meal and helped him stretch carefully, talking him through his programme until he grunted at her to stop because he'd skated it so many times he barely needed to think any more. He remained calmer than Lilia had ever seen him before a competition and, diverted for an interview before entering the rink, he asserted with confidence that his previous mistakes were down to nerves, but now that he had experience and knew what to expect from a major competition he would not repeat those errors. Lilia almost dropped when Yuri even smiled and waved at his fans.

Yuri qualified in fourth place so he skated third. Katsuki was first, then Chulanont. Lilia spoke quiet encouragement that seemed unnecessary and Yuri walked into the competitors' area with a determined glint in his eye. He warmed up with the rest of the first group while Lilia kept look out for JJ Leroy in case he tried to upset Yuri on purpose to sabotage his mood, and for Otabek Altin in case he upset Yuri by accident. She need not have worried. Neither they nor Giacometti came near.

Everyone was called off the ice but Katsuki Yuuri. His _Eros_ was confident and scored highly but fell far short of what her Yuri would attempt. Again, when watching Chulanont, she wondered if he ever took competitions seriously enough to try to win. He was good but he skated to entertain rather than to be technically brilliant. As Chulanont finished and took his bows, a commotion in the kiss and cry beside her made her turn. Yuri stood and Victor sprawled. 

No words passed between Lilia and Yuri as Chulanont left the ice and Yuri entered. A brief nod was all the signal she got of Yuri's confidence and determination. He swept out into the centre of the ice and waited. Yakov waited too, hands stuffed into pockets to hide his nervous fidgeting.

Yuri moved in perfect time with the music. His jumps were perfect, either one or both arms raised each time to increase the difficulty and therefore his score. She counted silently, a running total in her head that seemed impossible, until Yakov broke her concentration.  
_"Vitya!"_  
Lilia didn't see it. Yuri was Yuri. Victor had been as graceful, as brilliant, but it was time for the younger skater to take over. She watched as Yuri moved beautifully into his final position, held it, and seemed to blink and wake up as if he had been skating the routine in his sleep. 

They waited. Yuri in the middle, Yakov and Lilia on either side, leaning forward as if that would make the scores appear faster. The commentators were yelling about the numbers on the screen and the crowd went wild. Lilia, Yakov and even Yuri himself took a couple of seconds to process the number into meaning, then Yakov hoisted Yuri into the air in triumph and Lilia cheered in delight then bit her lip to hold back tears.

This is what it had been for, all the sacrifice. A new world record. Lilia let Yuri have his moment. She would have warned him that sometimes world records are very short lived and three experienced skaters who qualified ahead of him were yet to show off their final short programmes. Yuri slunk off to cool down, missing Giacometti's short programme which Lilia told him later was _"unoriginal",_ but joined the skaters for the last two performances. She watched Otabek Altin prepare, heard Yuri's call of _"Davai!"_ and smiled at Altin's quiet, serious acknowledgement of the youngest finalist. _Perhaps,_ she thought, _the Kazakh boy is exactly as he seems. Quiet. Serious. A good role model for hotheaded Yuri._

Yuri watched intently, perched on the edge of his seat, holding his breath, gasping and smiling at Altin's clean jumps. Lilia had never seen Yuri so interested in another skater's performance before. Sure, he would watch with her, pause video clips and listen to her or Yakov pick apart weaknesses and compare with his strengths, but this was different. Yuri seemed to be _living_ this performance. He was mesmerised. Lilia had been counting and she was worried that Altin's success might eclipse Yuri's. She thought not, although she gave Altin credit for being a superb technical skater and his movements were smooth and matched the music well, but until the scores were in from the judges, she had to believe it possible that she might have missed something in her own scorekeeping. Sure enough, the boy's score was very high. But Yuri's world record was safe for the next few minutes at least. Only JJ Leroy of Canada could take it away from him now.

Lilia watched Leroy take to the ice with a tight feeling in her gut. His professional smile plastered his face and his fans chanted his name. Lilia thought this was the closest she had ever come to hating someone. Although the boy was at least in part a product, he was old enough to choose not to be an asshole. Lilia almost blushed at her inner self for using such an unpleasant term. The music started and JJ Leroy began to skate. Lilia watched, frowned, turned to check if others could see what she saw or if she was somehow making up the scene playing out on the ice. Yuri sat forward looking confused. Katsuki and Sara Crispino stared with wide eyes. Lilia looked over at Leroy again. She was not deluded. He was terrible. She smiled. Yuri would hang on to the short programme world record long enough for it to matter.

Back at the hotel, Yuri was not in the mood for a debrief. He was elated, he was in first position and he had surpassed his old idol, Victor Nikiforov. Lilia didn't have it in her heart to deflate his ego tonight and she steered Yakov away from scolding the boy for attitude when he said some unkind things about JJ Leroy. She let Yuri prattle on for a while about his achievement and how Altin was a worthy adversary as well as a friend, and how he was _definitely_ going to win gold. When he tired of bragging, Lilia offered the advice she had been holding in for an hour.  
"Yura, you did so well today but tomorrow could see you overtaken if you let your guard down. Altin is only a few points behind you and he is strong. Even Katsuki could catch up if he has improved his free skate! Giacometti scored well and is known for dropping points in the short programme and picking up in his free skate. I doubt Leroy will recover strongly enough to beat you after his abysmal performance, but Chulanont is a beautiful performer despite that he lacks your technical skill. His free skate will probably not match yours but we cannot count on it. So that leaves four people who might tip you off your gold medal position. Yuri! Don't–"  
But the door slammed and Yuri was gone.


	11. ...wear it

Yuri kept to himself on the morning of the free skate. Lilia was not surprised by his sulk, nor was she concerned. His social media accounts were quiet and even Yuri's Angels had not uploaded any reported sightings, which probably meant that Yuri was safe in his room. 

So it was Yakov who tapped first on Lilia's door, late morning, asking if she had eaten yet. She had not, and accompanied Yakov to the hotel restaurant to see if there was any breakfast left. There was not, but Lilia suggested a change of scenery and brunch at a cafe. The odd pair walked past a couple of chain coffee bars with grinning, flustered baristas until Lilia nodded at a dim-looking but busy bar with high stools around a wooden counter and a few small tables by the side wall. It did not look like the sort of place the skating fans would go. They sat at the last spare table and ordered _expreso doble y fritatta_ when the server called from behind the bar. Service was rapid. Yakov frowned at the cubes of chilled potato and egg before shrugging and eating, then ordered more. 

"What do you have planned for Yuri next season?" Lilia asked, playing with her tiny coffee cup. Yakov looked at her, waiting for a glance that never came.  
"After the exhibition skate, rest. Recover. Maybe hold an exhibition of our Russian talent. Choose music for the worlds next year and choreograph new programmes that will score highly from the start."  
"Ah," Lilia laughed. "Intimidate his rivals from the very beginning?"  
"Yes." Yakov smiled. "And surprise them like Victor used to. Unless..."  
"Unless what?" Lilia sharpened her voice. "What?"  
Yakov stared at his brunch. "Unless Victor wants to come back and regain his world record short programme score."  
Lilia's eyebrows raised, and so did her voice. "Why would that affect Yuri's programme? You think he can't surprise the audience? Can't compete against Victor?"  
"No! No, no, no. Of course he can compete against Victor. But he doesn't have the experience to be able to pull off surprising performances like Victor can. He's your prima ballerina, Lilia, and it suits him. The sponsors love his innocent youth and angelic looks. They want a photo shoot as soon as we get back."  
"Ugh," Lilia shuddered. "They want him to pose in expensive, unsuitable sportswear?"  
Yakov nodded. "That's the least of it. If he wins tonight there's talk of a calendar."  
Lilia's hand flew to her mouth as she failed to stifle her mirth at the thought of Yuri Plisetsky having to pose and smile for twelve photographs. After a second, Yakov joined in with a guffaw that made the other patrons stare.

On the walk back to the hotel, Lilia hesitated then made the suggestion she had been holding on to for a couple of weeks now.  
"Yakov, I think Yuri should remain at my apartment after this season is over. That way I can supervise his off-season activity and make sure he is in the best condition possible for next season. Also–"  
"Yes!" Yakov agreed without waiting for further explanation of Lilia's reasoning. "He's more focused, more determined with your guidance. Just be careful."  
"Be careful?" Lilia stopped outside the hotel and Yakov looked at her with a hint of a smile, but declined to elaborate.

Yuri was up by the time Lilia reached her room. She tapped on his door and waited. It opened after a few seconds and Yuri peered out from the darkened interior. Lilia remembered that he had left in a mood the previous night, the euphoria of being placed first and breaking Victor's world record score having deserted him. At least, reasoned Lilia, it had happened then and not right before his free skate.  
"How do you feel today? Have you eaten? Stretched?"  
Yuri yawned and grunted.  
"Better get ready then," said Lilia with her best businesslike tone, "loosen up and show yourself at public practice."

 

Placed first after his stunning short programme, Yuri had the privilege of being last on the ice at the free skate. Lilia allowed her guard to drop a little. The Canadian would be skating first and she suspected that his power to irritate Yuri had been diminished. He hadn't come near Yuri during practice. Today he was just another nervous boy showing off on the ice. Lilia took her place by the rink side to watch, texting notes to Yakov so that he could keep Yuri up to date on his rivals' performances.

 _jjl missed cue_  
_quad triple looked good_  
_not smiling_  
_4 quads_  
_thai kid next_  
_stumbled on triple axel_  
_quad loop then tidy combination_  
_does this kid ever stop grinning_  
_Victor's boy now_  
_are you calculating score Yuri needs to get to win?_  
_...yes of course!_  
_quad salchow v clean_  
_higher difficulty than last time_  
_does this boy never tire?_  
_four quads_  
_tell Yura to be the best!_  
_beautiful_  
_have you seen his score!_  
_...yes, Yura knows what he has to do to win_  
_...I bet Vitya's pissed_  
_...he just lost two world records in two days_  
_...think he'll come back?_  
_FOCUS ON YURI!_  
_...sorry_  
_...katsuki got 319.41_  
_...Yuri SP was over 118_  
_...he needs to break 200 to beat K_  
_he can do it!_  
_tell him!_  
_...he knows!_  
_do I have to watch god's gift to human sexuality?_  
_he flubbed a jump_  
_he's gone_  
_unless he's saving up for something spectacular in the second half_  
_No it was dull_  
_Yura's friend is on now. Where is Yura?_  
_...it's time_  
_on my way_

Lilia met Yuri and Yakov by the changing room and they escorted Yuri, face serious and ears plugged into his music. Yakov turned at the sound of Victor calling him. Lilia walked behind Yuri. The boy seemed not to have noticed. But he stopped and turned as Victor's and Yakov's words filtered through the hubbub. Lilia gave Yakov a stern look but he paid her no attention.

_Victor is making a comeback? Why? He's proved himself a competent coach and he's old for a competitor._

Yuri turned to Victor and grasped his arm.  
"Does this mean Katsudon's retiring?"  
Lilia heard concern in Yuri's voice and it surprised her. Why should he care if a rival quit? But Victor either did not know or was not telling. He hugged Yuri tight and murmured something Lilia did not catch. When he let go, Lilia thought Yuri looked unreachable, like the calm in the eye of the storm. They walked the last few steps to the rink in silence.

Altin was still skating. Yuri stood to wait his turn, watching his newest friend execute crisp steps, clean jumps and perfect spins. He skated onto the ice without looking at Altin's score. Lilia nodded once in approval.  
_Good boy. This is all about you now. The gold is yours if you want it badly enough._  
Yuri was so focused he seemed not to notice the crowd's mass cheering or the individual calls of _Yuri! Davai!_ He ignored Katsuki's yell, but turned to seek Altin in the competitors' area when his loud _Davai!_ carried over the noise, and gave him a thumbs-up. Yuri paused in position and exploded into movement the instant the _Apassionato_ started.

Lilia could not even blink. Her beautiful Yuri, her work of art, was giving the performance of his life. His steps flowed, his jumps were clean and his arms raised to reach the high score he needed to make up the distance to Katsuki's total. His– _OH!_ Lilia's mouth dropped open and she covered it quickly with a gloved hand. A fall! But he was up immediately and into the most beautiful spiral she had ever seen. 

_My beautiful prima ballerina! No, No. You have evolved beyond that. You are something new. Something unique. Something all of your own making._

Lilia couldn't count Yuri's score. Was it enough? Would it be gold, or silver, or... what? Thoughts raced. What if he didn't win? Lilia had been so focused on projecting an image of deserved success that she had been blinded by her own vision of glory for Yuri. What if it all came down to a few fractions of points lost here and there? What if he missed the medals completely? Would they survive this? Would Yuri go back to his hostel in disappointment and give up ballet forever?

That was the last thing Lilia wanted. With a shiver she realised that coaching Yuri had done as much for her as it had for the boy, and she would miss his sulky, abrupt, enthusiastic and unpredictable presence in her life.

He was finished. Yuri sank to the ice with heaving chest and tearful eyes. Lilia gripped the barrier. She would have sat on the floor but it didn't do to show that kind of sentiment at the rink side. She patted at her eyes and breathed, wondering how she would bear to sit in the kiss and cry. When Yuri's triumph was announced, all Lilia's carefully planned sentences, the ones she imagined saying to Yuri with an air of professional graciousness, flew away. She hugged him and yelled alongside him as he punched the air and waved.

Yuri's satisfaction with his performance remained intact for another half hour. In the hotel lobby, walking close to Lilia, Yuri huffed once, then again only louder.  
"What is it?" asked Lilia.  
"I got a world record and a Grand Prix gold medal."  
"You did! And at fifteen, your first season as a senior!"  
"But Katsudon beat me in the free skate!"  
"Yu-uri-i!" Lilia groaned although she understood. "You did so well! Be happy for a little longer if you can. Go change and meet us in the bar. We need to discuss your exhibition skate and consider planning for next season. Perhaps we can add something to _The Angel of the Fire Festival_ now that we know what level of technical brilliance you are capable of. Impress your sponsors even more!" 

Yuri shrugged and huffed again as they reached their rooms. Lilia tried her best to cheer him up from his post-triumph slump. "Yuri, why not call that nice boy from Kazakhstan? The reception staff will put you through to his room if you ask. It was his first Grand Prix final too. If he has forgiven you for beating him, perhaps you could go out and celebrate together."


	12. Revealed

Lilia appraised her look in the mirror, tucked her long, black hair behind one ear, displaying a glint of gold, and went to meet Yakov in the hotel bar. It was surprisingly quiet: she acknowledged a couple of familiar faces from the rink side with a stern nod and staked her place at the bar, taking out her phone to review, reblog, retweet and repost Yuri's success story. Yakov was only minutes behind her and by the time he hauled himself up onto a bar stool, their bottle of Rioja Gran Reserva had been uncorked with a satisfying _pop_ and the barman had poured two small measures into two fashionably large glasses. Yakov's hand reached for the bottle. He read the label with a smile.

"Hah! Celebrating? Can we afford to order another after we finish this one?"  
Lilia raised her glass and shrugged.  
"Up to you. I signed for this on your room number."  
Yakov laughed and sipped, eyes closing for a moment.  
"You know, Lilia, I miss this."  
"Yakov–" Lilia sounded tired. Yakov raised his free hand in surrender.  
"No, no don't worry. I'll move out again when we get back. I miss the evenings we used to spend drinking and talking. That's all. I don't miss... the other stuff."  
Lilia drew breath to demand _what other stuff?_ but a commotion on Yakov's other side distracted them both. It was Yuri.

The gold medallist sprawled on a stool, back to the bar, elbows holding him up. He huffed. Yakov waved the barman over and ordered coca cola for Yuri. Yuri downed half of it in one go and belched. Lilia grimaced.  
"Even gold medal winning world record holders ought to be polite in public areas, Yuri."  
"Yeah." Yuri sank a little further down. "Ugh."  
Lilia glanced at Yakov, who shook his head slowly.  
"Let's discuss your exhibition skate then you can go rest or go out with the other skaters. Make more friends."  
"Why do I have to do that programme? It feels just the same as my free skate," said Yuri with a pout. "I want... I want to do something different."  
Lilia sighed. "Yuri, why now? _The Angel of the Fire Festival_ is a beautiful companion piece to the _Apassionato._ They each reflect the other's themes and–"  
"But that's the point!" whined Yuri. "They could be the same piece. I bet if you switched the music nobody would notice. It's boring."  
"Boring!" Lilia swivelled so quickly to face Yuri that she almost fell off her stool. "You have performed it at the other exhibitions and _nobody else_ called it boring. It's one performance, Yuri. Suffer it."

Lilia returned to her drink, topped up by Yakov who snarled at Yuri for his poor attitude and suggested he go whine in his room instead of spoiling the atmosphere in the bar. The boy turned away but continued to grumble. Lilia ignored him for a while but eventually his persistence wore her down and she snapped.

"Am I to understand that you do not wish to skate _The Angel of the Fire Festival_ at the exhibition tomorrow?" Yuri grumbled some more and Lilia gritted her teeth. "What does it lack that makes you suddenly hate it so much?"  
"I don't... ugh. It's not _lacking_ anything. It's just..." Yuri sat up abruptly and hopped off his bar stool. "Ugh you wouldn't understand. I'm going out."  
Yuri darted out of the bar. Yakov nudged Lilia and pointed out of the window where Yuri sprinted to catch up with Otabek Altin.  
"Hah! Are all your prima ballerinas so difficult when they are in love?"  
"Shut up and drink, you buffoon," replied Lilia with a tired laugh. "I wish this was all over. It's more exhausting than touring with the entire corps de ballet of the Bolshoi. At least my girls do not complain that _Swan Lake_ is boring even though they have good reason to beg for variety."

Lilia and Yakov drank and talked and laughed and celebrated Yuri's success, discussed Victor's possible return to the team, and parted after snacking on tapas and finishing their second bottle of wine. It was over, it had been a success and only the exhibition skate remained. Yakov parted with a reassurance to Lilia that, _"ah, that boy! He's unsettled by success. He'll be fine in the morning."_

Lilia spent the bulk of the day relaxing in the hotel spa and shopping in the best of the boutiques along Passeig de Gràcia. She left Yuri alone, checking on his social media as usual, catching up on his failed attempt to socialise with the older skaters. She felt for the boy. He was a child who wanted to be an adult amongst adults who behaved like children. At Yuri's age, Lilia remembered dressing carefully and putting on makeup and being expected to socialise politely with the richest, most influential patrons, and she was glad that things were different for Yuri. 

Lilia took her seat beside Yakov for the exhibition. All the medal winners would be there, relaxed because the competition was over and ready to give performances that could focus on their love for their art rather than technical prowess and points. It promised to be two hours of joyful celebration of figure skating. She knew Yuri was in the building because she had escorted him here herself along with Mila, although he had disappeared off as soon as he had seen Otabek Altin. Lilia scanned the area reserved for competitors and their entourages but the Kazakh boy was nowhere to be seen. Chulanont was there, he'd bagged a good seat beside coach Celestino, and Giacometti lounged nearby with a couple of other skaters who had not made it to the final but came for the experience and the atmosphere. Yuri would be last on the ice and the audience would leave with her choreography, her beautiful _Angel of the Fire Festival_ as the last performance. 

Lilia sat through performances, clapping politely as skaters and ice dancers bowed, occasionally commenting to Yakov where routines could be improved and smiling as Mila briefly hugged Sara Crispino as they passed each other on the ice. Leroy of Canada put on a show, his brash confidence back, buoyed up by the chanting crowd. Katsuki was next and Lilia commented that it was strange that Victor was not by the rink side, but Yakov pointed and her mouth dropped open. Victor was in costume. Lilia leaned closer to Yakov.  
"What does he think he's doing? It's only the medallists who should be in costume!"  
Yakov just shrugged and murmured, "Huh. Victor being Victor. I knew he couldn't stay out of the spotlight for long. Probably jealous of his own skater's medal."  
"Well," Lila settled back as the show began. "At least _The Angel of the Fire Festival_ will show everyone what... what a... YAKOV!"

Lilia pointed. Yakov narrowed his eyes as he made out Yuri and Otabek, in what looked like a close, heated discussion near the rink side. Lilia sounded frantic. "What is he _wearing!_ He should be in costume by now!" Lilia started to rise but Yakov held her back. "Yakov, I'm going–"  
"No, Lilia, if he's planned something stupid, let him. Let him make this mistake."  
Victor and Katsuki acknowledged their applause, bowed and left the ice. Yuri, in a pink leather jacket and tight black leggings, ripped shirt, fingerless gloves and sunglasses, walked onto the ice, pulling Otabek Altin in his wake.  
_"He can't perform the Angel of the Fire Festival dressed like that!"_ said Lilia, perching forward in her seat, hands over her face. Yakov muttered back that he didn't think that was likely. _"What's Altin doing? He shouldn't be skating!"_

The music drowned out the rest of Lilia's exclamations and she watched, eyes wide, mouth open, one hand gripping the edge of her seat and the other clamped around Yakov's wrist. 

It was _astounding._

Lilia deflected questions from reporters about Yuri's final exhibition skate as she left the rink. Back in her hotel room, she paced. She flung her coat and bag across the room and punched her pillows in frustrated fury, pummelling them until her arms ached then came back into herself and laughed at her ridiculousness. She sat on the edge of her bed and dared herself to weep. 

Lilia indulged her emotional outburst for another few minutes then, in the quiet calm that followed, she sent Yakov a text and got into the shower. When she emerged with a clean face, a towel around her hair and a hotel robe drowning her petite frame, Yakov was already sitting at the little table, peering at the phone dwarfed in his left hand, poking at it with his right forefinger.  
"Hmm. Good reception. The crowd loved it and–"  
"Yakov, he's _fifteen_ and he hid this from us!" Lilia felt her emotions rise again. Was it anger? Fear? Panic? She clenched her fists then flipped the towel on her hair forward and rubbed at it furiously, patting her face with the damp fabric to cool her cheeks when she was done.  
"Yes, yes," Yakov soothed. "And he will have some form of sanction for that. But–"  
"FIFTEEN!" reminded Lilia.  
"Mmhmm, fifteen," echoed Yakov.  
Lilia sat on the edge of her bed to untangle and dry her hair, smoothing the long tresses with a wide comb until it lay sleek and shiny over her shoulders. Yakov watched and smiled.  
"And of course you never danced roles that would have looked... unseemly to your mentors when you were a teenager."  
Lilia, calmer, pointed her comb at Yakov. "That's different."  
"So you didn't sneak around rehearsals for _The Rite of Spring_ with your best friend, and persuade a young choreographer to help you out, when you thought Madame was toning it down too much?"  
"Still different!"  
"Why, because it was you?"

Lilia opened her makeup case and lined up her favourite products in the order in which she would apply them. Yakov watched the remaining anger drain from Lilia's posture.  
"It went down very well with the crowd," he offered.  
"Bunch of perverts," countered Lilia.  
"Blew up all over the internet. Very positive reception from _Yuri's Angels."_  
"Uh-huh? Give them something to think about in the shower for weeks."  
"Lilia!" Yakov faked horror and Lilia laughed.  
"I'm sorry. Yakov, it is just a shock to see him perform a role like that. He's my angel. A child. Except he's not, is he?"  
"No." Yakov shook his head. "He's a hot-headed demon wearing the face he stole from an angel. Lilia, what he did tonight was–"  
"What he did was piss me off but I will get over it. If he wants more control over his choreography I will allow it, but he has a lot to learn. His routine was sensational but sloppy and I want him to study the basics of choreography before he is allowed to put his next programme together."  
"–was an act. Remember that, Lilia, he was playing the role he wanted to play. When you danced as _The Chosen One_ you were not _actually_ taking part in–"  
"Oh, goodness no. That was an act."

Lilia dressed quickly while Yakov waited in the corridor. Before she left her room to join him for a long overdue celebration dinner, she sent Yuri a message.  
_That was a surprise! Clearly you are more versatile than I gave you credit for. Next season will be spectacular._


End file.
